


Blues and Greens

by GirlKnownSomewhere



Series: Blues & Greens [1]
Category: The Monkees, The Monkees (TV)
Genre: 1960s, Band Fic, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-19
Updated: 2019-04-20
Packaged: 2020-01-16 16:48:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 31,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18525610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GirlKnownSomewhere/pseuds/GirlKnownSomewhere
Summary: A fan-fictionalized account of Ann Moses' adventures in Monkeemania.





	1. Here We Come/Take a Giant Step

**Author's Note:**

> So I was going to just dump this on Tumblr, but then I decided the fic is just way too big for my personal blog. A couple of notes:
> 
> 1) I actually haven't read Ann's memoir, so if some things don't match up with her life, that's why, lol. I'm primarily basing her persona on her blog and interviews I've read/heard (she's basically 70% herself, 30% OFC in this fic, heh).
> 
> 2) Some elements of the band's history and Ann's life have been slightly altered for fanfic narrative (this should be obvious considering it's called fanFICTION, but whatev)
> 
> 3) General disclaimer: I don't own any part of the Monkees or Ann Moses' likeness (I just wish I had her life).
> 
>  

Pro.: Here We Come

LA, summer 1966

“You like television?”

Nineteen-year-old Ann Moses looked up from her office desk currently consisting of a typewriter, notebook and planner. She had only been in Los Angeles for six months since moving from Anaheim, but she hadn’t needed to beg for work. “I guess. I watch ‘Shindig!’ and ‘Ed Sullivan’ like everyone else.”

“This isn’t a music variety show I’m talking about, it’s a music sit-com. Like those movies the Beatles made—but with Americans at home.” 

“Sounds terrific! Who’s the band?” Ann asked her boss, Ralph. 

“It’s just four guys they found for the show, one or two of them might play, but they’re mainly actors. Should be interesting. It’s called ‘The Monkees.’” Ralph then tossed a newspaper article on Ann’s desk announcing the series’ production. She raised her eyebrow in slight amusement at the referential misspelling. _‘Hey, it worked for the Beatles and the Byrds,’_ she thought. 

“Make a note to watch it every Monday on NBC this autumn. You’ve got a new favorite show. It’s looking like their demographic is going to synch up exactly with ours.” 

 

 

Ch. 1: Take a Giant Step

Del Mar, September 1966

Only five weeks later and the ‘TV band’ everyone in Hollywood was talking about already had a hit single on the radio. Ann felt like she heard ‘Last Train to Clarksville’ on the radio every other day and their television series still had yet to debut. That is until this week, in two days to be exact. Ralph had told her to focus most of her Tiger Beat column in the future on the Monkees unless an ‘emergency’ like Herman’s Hermits arriving in town or Dave Clark 5 performing the Bowl occurs. But before she or anyone else could finally have the chance to watch this new group at home from their living room couch, Ann had a big opportunity in store. James set up for her to be part of the press group invited to the band’s first big outing in Hollywood. Taking the lyrics to their first single to heart, LA radio station KHJ held a contest for winners to literally take the last train to Clarksville with the band. Except ‘Clarksville’ is actually going to be Del Mar and said train is going to be the Union Pacific Passenger Liner. 

_‘I guess we’ll see how for real these guys are,’_ Ann pondered while trying to decide on her cutest skirt/blouse combo from her closet. Four hours later she was standing with her fellow journalists on the beach in a navy blue blouse with polka dots and a white skirt next to the train station. As she took a look at her wrist watch, Ann sighed and popped a piece of bubblegum into her mouth. Almost instantly swarms of young school girls ranging from 11-14 years old started rapidly filling the beach. Five minutes later a group of men took to the sandy stage, with the girls gasping in excitement—only to realize it was just a local opening act. The girls groaned in annoyance and anxiousness as they waited for the real deal to show up. Ann shook her head in amusement at the reaction. Still, she was pretty curious herself about who exactly the Monkees were. They can’t garner these type of fangirls with just Hollywood make-believe, can they? ‘Last Train to Clarksville’ was a good single, and the B-side wasn’t bad either. But wasn’t this just supposed to be a group of actors from a TV set? Did they really have the musical talent she was hearing on her car radio? Something was up. 30 minutes later the opening act bowed and left the stage, and two helicopters could be heard from above. 

“Is that them?!”

“Yeah, it has to be!”

Ann raised her head to see the helicopters flying their way and causing hysterical screaming from the girls. The magazine reporter chose that as the moment to take out her pocket-sized notebook and pen from her purse and dot down the girls’ reactions. As the helicopters got louder and closer, the screaming and jumping got more extreme. Eventually the band was released near the water and ran up to the stage, wearing matching red double-breasted shirts.

“Oh my God, Davy!!”

 _‘Davy? Oh, that must be the kid from Broadway.’_ Ann did try to do some research before today and discovered that the youngest of the group, Davy Jones, previously had a Tony nomination for performing in ‘Oliver!’ She assumed the short one was Davy as not only did he look like the youngest, but also the cutest in the traditional, teenybopper sense. Wide-eyes, soft hair and youthful demeanor. “’ello, Del Mar! I mean Clarksville! I mean…ya know.” Cue more squeals from the junior high crowd at his English accent. _‘Apparently not all Americans,’_ Ann instantly noticed. She had to admit they were a good looking bunch, and all the commotion was making her overwhelmed too. As the band started playing, Ann was surprised the lead vocal wasn’t coming from Davy, but behind him. _‘A drummer who sings? That’s interesting.’_ He was cute too, but in a sunnier way. To the far left was the tallest band member, the guitarist. Ann noted his green woolhat, which she found amusingly irreverent, covering his dark hair. He gave off a more serious manner and barely moved throughout the song. _‘Might be the married one,’_ she remembered hearing through one of the girls at the office. She couldn’t picture little girls daydreaming over his type of persona. And to the far right was the bassist and the only one with lighter hair. _‘He’s just as baby-faced as Davy.’_ She glanced at his belt buckle being peculiarly placed to the left of his hip rather than center. 

After studying their looks, Ann begin paying attention to their playing. The drummer appeared fairly decent, though obviously recently trained. Davy was front and center with a tambourine. The guitarist and bassist looked like the two who knew what they were doing the most. The bassist in particular was having a blast and getting into the song. Ann hadn’t seen someone that enthusiastic on a bass since Paul McCartney. _‘Jeez, why didn’t they put him on guitar?’_ Not that the guitar player was bad, just a little rudimentary compared to peers like Pete Townshend or Keith Richards.

After playing both their single and B-side, the band, fans and press made their way into the train from the assigned entrances. Ann made sure to stick with the press and not somehow be accidentally stuck with the hyper-active girls. As the band entered last, they picked up where they left off and played a couple more songs. The closer the girls got to the guys, the more frantic the crowd became. _‘What is this, Beatlemania? Monkeemania?’_ Sounded a little corny in Ann’s mind, but most marketing was. She noticed the vocals switched to the guitar player for the first song and was impressed with him almost as much as the drummer. But her eyes kept lingering back to the bass player, jamming along with his face lit up on each song. _‘Aw, what a great smile.’_

When the songs ended, Ann made a beeline to be the first press reporter in front of the music group. Trying not to push anyone, she found herself in front of the drummer first. “Hi!...” 

“Hi!” He mimicked her greeting with a raised hand. 

“I’m Ann Moses with Tiger Beat. You guys were great!”

“Thanks, appreciate that.” He quickly motioned something to the man next to him before looking back at Ann. 

“You have an incredible voice! Are you from Broadway too? I thought that was just Davy’s thing…”

“Nope, it’s a natural gift,” he jokingly replied in a sing-song voice. 

“That’s great, Mi…” Not sure whether it was Mike, Micky or Peter, she hoped he would take over from there.

“Micky—Micky Dolenz.” This time he offered a handshake, which Ann accepted, with an amused, but slightly quizzical look on his face.

“Micky! Great…yeah, great.” Currently at a loss for words, she chose to look around the train. “Can you believe how wild the crowd is already?” Micky just shrugged casually. “What’s the deal with all of this anyway? Are you guys both musicians and actors?”

“It’s an acting gig, but you know. It’s just easier to hire four kids who can sing too.” 

“Yeah, but you guys looked like you could really play.”

“I had to learn drums after I was cast. Davy was a quick learner with the tambourine. Mike and Peter were already playing music when they auditioned.” Micky then waved to the man he was with before, who then shuffled over and introduced himself to Ann as Tommy Boyce. One-half of a songwriting team hired to compose songs for the Monkees.

“So you guys just sing and play? And Tommy and Bobby do the words and music?”

“Hey, Mick!” Suddenly Davy escaped three fangirls to reach Micky, Ann and Tommy. If Ann had predicted that Davy was the going to be the most popular in the fanbase, she would be correct. He was just as charming and cute in person as he was on stage and in photos. She had already met Mick Jagger six months earlier, so it wasn’t the first time a future superstar made her starstruck. But it was still a thrill to meet someone with a genuine presence and talent. Just as soon as they began chatting, another fan tugged the hem of Davy’s shirt and he was off again. Then without any warning, two more girls noticed Davy and shoved Ann out of the way for closer range. Taken by surprise, Ann felt she was about to trip—until a pair of arms wrapped around her to stop her from falling. 

“Whoa, hey!” 

Ann looked up to see the bassist holding her upright. “Hey…and thanks,” she added awkwardly.

“No worries. You alright?”

“Yeah, just surprised…” She then realized they were still mid-hug, although not unpleasantly. In fact, it felt like a little nice, protective shield around all the wild kids. 

“Follow me,” he said, letting go to walk over to the end of the train while holding her hand. As they were moving, the guitar player passed them on the opposite end. Now with an even closer look for a quick second, Ann could see he wasn’t cute like the other three. But more traditionally handsome in a mature way. _‘You’d think he belonged in the Byrds, not the Monkees.’_ Next thing she knew, the bassist led her into a private room where the small press group was waiting. Ann suddenly felt silly for going straight to the band rather than wait with the others in the press room. _‘Ugh, I should be past rookie moves like that now.’_ She then took a seat on the couch, with the young man following suit.

“I should probably know this by now, but Michael Nesmith or Peter Tork?”

“Peter Tork,” he answered with a light laugh. 

“Ah, ok. Maybe you can answer this for me. Are you guys a real band or just actors taking music training? I mean, I figured the studio would just have professionals do all the soundtrack stuff, but you guys aren’t bad, so…”

“Can I get your name first before I spill any legally binding secrets?” He said with a smile.

“What?—Oh! Oh my God, sorry. I’m Ann Moses from Tiger Beat. I recently curated a column specifically for your band—and show. Both, I guess. It goes live the same day as the series.”

“Terrific.”

“By the way, you’re so good! You might be the best bass player I’ve ever seen, and I saw Jefferson Airplane last spring.”

That got a good chuckle out of him. “I’m not on Casady’s level. But I was the only one who could pick up on it right away. I was playing guitar before I was cast.”

“I knew it! You just…move more like a guitarist.”

Peter then grabbed a can of coke from a small tub of ice. “How do you know how guitarists move? Is that a skill for all music reporters?”

“Oh well, I don’t know, I just meant—” Ann rambled.

“I’m just teasing,” he said with a quick wink.

That was all it took to let out a small giggle. _‘Why am I so flustered right now? I was fine with Davy and Micky.’_

“Hey, Pete, can you take over for me? There’s a dozen kids left and you talked to five.” Micky leaned into the doorway.

“Yeah, because they’re all over you and Davy!” He tossed back.

“Come on, man, it’s been almost an hour since I’ve had anything to drink.” Micky then gave an exaggerated example of dehydration with a throaty voice.

Peter and Ann laughed at the gag before Peter finally responded. “Okay, man. I’m moving.” Micky then thanked him with a ‘danke’ in a fake German accent. _‘Well, he’s clearly the clown of the group,’_ Ann concluded.

“Oh, wait! I still have to talk to Mike.”

Both bandmates snorted at Ann’s exclamation. “Don’t worry about it, he’ll probably snub you the whole night,” Peter revealed.

“Oh…why?”

Peter just offered a shrug. “Doesn’t like publicity, I guess. Hey, great to meet you and good luck with the column!” And off he went.

“Thanks! Bye!...” Ann now didn't know what to do with the free time.

Micky noticed the silent pause and offered: “I can give you a few standard answers on Mike so you can pretend like you conversed.” 

“Oh, that’s so nice of you, Micky.” Ann grinned appreciatively.

“Or you can give me your number and we can meet up again.”

That made Ann flush. She wasn’t expecting him to be so direct. “Oh, sure…let me write it down…” She took out her small notebook, also realizing she barely wrote any notes tonight. _‘Drat…’_ But she wasn’t too worried. She could still feel the huge impact and atmosphere of the mini-concert and meet & greet, and it wasn’t going to leave her brain anytime soon.


	2. Through the Looking Glass

Ch. 2: Through the Looking Glass

Hollywood, February 1967

Almost instantly Ann’s ‘little column’ ended up taking over most issues of Tiger Beat and there was talk of the Monkees having their own zine altogether—all contributed by Ann. It was incredible. She felt like she was on top of the world, and she was only turning 20. _‘Oh, I still have to find a birthday gift for Peter too.’_ In the past five months, she’d gotten to know the ‘Pre-Fab Four’ rather well, including how she and Peter were both born in February. She learned that Peter has been playing guitar and piano since he was 9, and he can’t imagine life without music. Micky actually has natural curls and has to have his hair permed before tapings (and he jokingly gave her a hard time for not knowing his past sitcom “Circus Boy”). Davy is the best drummer in the band, but too short and cute to be placed in the back of the stage. And Mike wanted to be an air force pilot before he heard his first Bob Dylan record, and then felt inspiration to write songs. 

Well, that’s what she heard for the last one. She was still struggling to get a real, legitimate conversation out of Mike. The other guys had been more accommodating in supporting her articles, but the moody songwriter still wouldn’t budge. Her best efforts were when she just happened to get them together as a group, but even then he would usually just give one-word answers. But there were other, more exciting perks to being a VIP reporter for the Monkees. Like visits to the TV set every other week, and riding in the official Monkeemobile with the guys for press. The latter she got to reveal to her readers is an automatic. She was introduced to the showrunners Bob Rafelson and Bert Schneider (or ‘Raybert’), who gave off this vibe as the ‘cool kids on campus.’ And their most frequent episode director, Jim Frawley, was like a big brother to the band. The guys were encouraged to appear ‘available’ as an attempt to curb possible jealous fangirls (especially Davy), with the exception of Mike, who was already married when he auditioned for the show. Later on she found out from Peter that the wedding was secretly because the couple’s adorable baby boy was unplanned. 

Ann loved how welcomed she was by the TV team and how the studio lot felt like a grown-up version of her old Disneyland job. Her favorite day so far was when she got a bike ride from Davy around the faux-NYC set. Even if it was just for a photo op, Davy always made everything fun. Ann wasn’t the only special girl to visit the set though. There was an assigned photographer for the band from over seas, whose name Ann always had trouble remembering. A pretty girl named Valerie who was the band's and crew's favorite extra and stand-in for shooting. And another young woman, Leah, who didn’t really have anything to do with the show or band except that she sometimes goes out with Peter. Oh, and her older sister is Mama Cass Elliot, so Ann was really hoping Peter would make that introduction someday soon. 

“Hey!” Ann’s absent-minded pondering was interrupted by the musician in question sneaking up behind her and covering her eyes. “Join me in the lunch hall?”

“For sure!” She smiled as he lowered his hands and began walking by her side. Halfway to the dining hall, Ann noticed Mike walking on the set. His green hat and red shirt replaced with a pair of sunglasses above a white buttoned-up shirt and tie.

“Hey, Mike! We’re gonna get something to eat, want to joi—?”

“I’m good, thanks.” And he carried on walking.

Peter just smirked and playfully shook her shoulder. “He’s never going to take you up on that offer.”

“He has to have a breaking point, doesn’t he?”

“Maybe. Maybe not.”

Sitting opposite each other on a table outside, Ann ate a cup of pudding while Peter enjoyed a box of French fries and ketchup. Two soda bottles were on each end. 

“What’s that?” Ann motioned to a pattern painted on his hand she suddenly noticed. 

“Oh, it’s a henna.” He raised his palm to show her. “Temporary body art. I got it from an Indian lady at a kiosk downtown.”

“Far out.”

“You should get one too!”

“Hmm, maybe. Are you guys finally getting your own studio time soon?”

“Hopefully. Mike’s been plotting some ideas on how to step away from Don, but you know, contracts…”

Ann took another bite of pudding before continuing. “I don’t get why everyone’s freaking out over that. I mean, the Beach Boys use session guys all the time…”

“No one outside of LA knows that, Annie.”

“Yeah, but you guys got ripped off.”

“Yeah…” There was a pregnant pause while they ate a few more bites.

“Good for Mike though! That must be super frustrating having to produce your own songs without being allowed to play them.” Ann took a swig of soda.

“Yeah, it is. I don’t know. Sometimes I think Mike bitching about the sessions was a mistake, because now we just have music pubs labeling us a ‘fake’ band.” Peter sighed in annoyance.

“Well, I’ve seen you in the studio and that’s totally not the case. Besides, Tiger Beat readers aren’t snobby like those critics.” She smirked playfully.

He gave his own lop-sided grin. “They’re not as cute as Tiger Beat’s editors either.”

Ann released a light laugh before placing her spoon in the empty cup. “You know…I can try to give the band a special plug in the next issue. I mean, not that we aren’t already spending dozens of pages on you already. But I mean I can try to get you a little more than just photos and reports on your weekend activities or who you’re dancing with at clubs.”

Peter exhaled softly and gave her hand a quick squeeze. “Don’t worry about it, Annie.”

About 20 minutes later, Ann began heading out of the studio lot for the day when she found Mike again. _‘I hate when I have to be pushy, but…’_

“Mike…?” She tried as she got directly behind him, but wasn’t surprised when he just ignored it. She called again, this time a bit louder, before just taking a plunge and grabbing his arm. That got his attention.

“Look, I know you really hate the whole press aspect of your job, but I really hate when I can’t get an assignment done before my deadline. It can take only 10 minutes max. Please…?” She attempted an innocent smile for extra effort. It was hard to see his reaction with his shades still covering his eyes, but she did notice his left eyebrow rose. He removed her hand from his arm and coolly stepped to her side.

“Say, Annie. I’ve actually been thinkin’ about your interviews too. And you know what…” His Texan drawl hitting Ann’s ears for the first time in weeks. He lifted his arm to wrap around her shoulder, much to Ann’s shock. “And I think it really all depends…”

“On what?”

“On you.”

“On me?”

“Yeah…I do this article for you…but what are you going to do for me?....You dig?” That left Ann speechless and stone-faced. He gave her shoulder a soft squeeze. _‘Was he seriously…?’_ She had heard about things like this happening before, but she always thought it was from dirty, 50-year-old men. Plus Mike never paid attention to her or, well…anything.

Seeing that he successfully stumped her and distracted her train of thought, Mike took that as a cue to leave nonchalantly. It was a couple of seconds until Ann broke out of her spaced-out state and realized he was gone. 

“Hey, Ann. I thought you already le—whoa, did Casper just pass through the set? You look a little spooked.” Suddenly Micky was in front of her.

“I think Mike just…propositioned me?” It sounded ridiculous out loud, but she didn’t know how else to describe it.

Micky gave a shocked laugh. “Really?”

“Yeah. But I think he might be bluffing…”

“Probably…you’re not really Nez’s type…”

Ann creased her nose, perplexed at Micky’s comment.

“I mean, physically you are.” That only got Ann to raise her eyebrows mystified. “But what I mean is…he doesn’t…you know…”

“Respect teenybopper gossip columnists?”

“Yeah, basically, heh,” Micky concluded with a sheepish grin.

“Hm, big surprise.” Ann rolled her eyes sarcastically.


	3. Pillow Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: I forgot Micky also grew facial hair during 'Headquarters' when I wrote this chap, oop.

Ch. 3: Pillow Time

Dallas, August 1967

It had been over three months since Ann last hung around the Monkees’ TV set, right when the first season wrapped. The boys had been spending the past summer rehearsing and performing their current tour to promote their third album ‘Headquarters.’ It was the first time the band recorded as a four-piece unit and didn’t have to be assigned session musicians for the instrumental tracks. Ann was so proud of them. She could see on Peter’s face how happy he was when she visited some of the recording sessions. Even if Mike wouldn’t show it, she knew he was proud too, as he fought the hardest of the band for creative control. The album instantly went to #1 on the charts, and on top of that, their show won two Emmy awards. Meanwhile, Ann herself had been making use of the summer season by getting more familiar with some of the edgier music acts out currently. She got to meet the Who at the Monterey Pop Festival with Peter and Micky; and then one of her girl friends, Genie, introduced her to the power trio Cream. 

The Who were probably the craziest concert she’d ever seen, but man, was it thrilling! She even talked to Roger Daltrey off stage, although briefly. He was clearly into Ann and asked her if she wanted to go back to his hotel room. Even though she had made out with a couple of musicians in the past and recently lost her virginity to one of them, she still wasn’t used to rockstars bluntly asking up front like that. With a deep blush, she declined, but told Roger and the rest of the band she’d keep in touch on their next tour. (And she didn’t feel the need to tell Peter or Micky about the incident either.) Things went a little smoother when she met Cream the following month with Genie. The guitarist, Eric Clapton, was clearly a revelation musically, though he didn’t have much to say in person. He reminded Ann of Mike in that regard. He wasn’t very interested in Ann either, which was fine by her, as she knew Genie was attracted to Eric anyway.

But most importantly, the mid-summer period was going to be the first time she went on tour with the Monkees. She’d been to all their LA and San Fran gigs before, but never traveled with the band. She had it scheduled to meet them at the beginning of August for a week in Dallas and Houston. Usually she socialized with the group at the TV set and the recording studio, so the fun activities had to be somewhat modified for professionalism. But now she was getting antsy to see the guys after hours. And if she was being honest, she liked feeling a little privileged on a big band’s entourage. 

Ann placed her sunglasses above her blonde bangs when she walked through the hotel lobby. A big smile formed on her face when she saw three out of four Monkees lounging on the front couch. Peter was the first to see her and jumped up from his seat. “Annie!” She squealed and jumped into his arms. Behind them Davy and Micky stood up and greeted her.

After a long, big hug which lifted her off her feet, Ann took notice of Peter’s clean-shaven face for the third time that summer. The boys had been so swept up in recording ‘Headquarters’ by themselves earlier in the year, that Mike and Peter ended up growing facial hair for a couple months. “Aww, that’s much better still,” she proclaimed while petting his chin and cheek. Peter posed cherubically with his hand on his head as a halo before laughing with her. “Isn’t he much cuter without the beard?” She asked his bandmates.

Davy and Micky chuckled. “Yeah, sure. By the end of recording we had to remind security that he was a Monkee and not a random vagabond,” Micky chimed.

“Hey, the Monkee girls dug it!” Peter claimed.

Ann crinkled her nose and shook her head, “Not this one.”

“Oh, well. In that case,” and in a flash he released her from their hug, causing another squeal from her. “Hey, drop your stuff off in your room and then meet us at the pool. We’re not doing anything important until tomorrow.”

“Great! I’ll be right back. By the way, even though I’m excited for some Monkee-ing around, I’m still thoroughly on the job.” She showed her carry-on bag with her camera peeking out of the zipper. 

The next five hours were spent messing around in the water, partaking in hotel food service and Ann making use of her photo camera. She wore a stripped white+pink two-piece bathing suit, and the guys in blue swim trunks. Halfway through Micky left to meet up with Mike, but Peter and Davy stuck around and posed plenty for Ann. The following morning she met up with Peter early outside the hotel, where a limousine drove them to a local radio station. When they arrived, Mike was already there and the other two showed up at roughly the same time Ann and Peter did. This was the first time since flying in that Ann had seen of Mike, but that was wasn’t surprising as usual. She had to admit, he really did look like the ‘cool’ member of the band. He now had huge muttonchops next to his ears, but they weren’t too goofy. And he was possibly the only person she knew who could get away with wearing sunglasses in doors as much as he did. She had also taken notice of Micky not straightening his hair anymore and his natural curls flattered him. And of course, Peter and Davy were their adorable selves.

The station gave Peter a 30 minute perk of letting him be a ‘guest jockey.’ Even the head DJ was impressed at how natural Peter was at not only picking some stellar cuts, but also the chatting in between songs. Noticing Ann was taking photos around the room, he asked her for a couple of her own song recommendations. She suggested ‘All Shook Up’ by Elvis and ‘Kicks’ by the Raiders. After Peter’s impromptu disc gig, the DJs took over the desk and focused on interviewing Mike. Ann noticed his accent thickened as he spoke to his fellow state natives, but even at home, he still gave them a hard time with vague responses and answering with his own questions. _‘Well, at least he’s not biased.’_ Seeing he was so in the zone, she took that instance to get a close up of his profile. The sound of the camera clicking took him out of the moment and he found Ann in front of him. A milli-second later, Mike was back to messing with the press, before they had had enough of his polarizing personality and asked Davy to take a seat. Ann then stepped to the corner of the room to give her hands a rest and save some of the camera roll. “I’ll help you with that, young lady,” Mike unexpectedly grabbed her camera and held it over her head. As she was nearly a foot shorter, raising her arms to grab it didn’t do much. 

“Come on, Mike, don’t be a jerk.” 

At that he lowered his hand and let her take it back. “You know, it might be considered polite to show me the photo before you publish it, so I can see how much of a farce it looks like.” 

Ann rolled her eyes. “Don’t worry, you look fine.”

“Sure, but—”

“Hey, Annie!” Davy called over to her from across the room. “Come over here and say hi to the Dallas radio listeners.”

The next stop was a TV appearance that afternoon. Once again, Peter and Ann rode in their own limo and the rest of the team on their own. As they neared the station, Ann felt a sudden sense of dread go through her.

“…There’s going to be a lot fans here, aren’t there?”

“Probably. Why?” 

Just then a couple dozen girls bolted and screeched towards the car as they were stopped at a red light by the studio. Ann gasped and widened her eyes as they banged on the windows and roof while screaming Peter’s name. Peter, on the other hand, had gotten used to the hysteria and just waved at the windows. Noticing how nervous the young reporter was, he leaned closer and wrapped his arms around her. “Don’t worry, Annie. I’ll protect you!” Trying to lighten the mood seemed to work a little and she sighed while leaning into his embrace. _‘Aw…this is nice…’_

As the limo stopped in front of the backdoor of the TV station, more fangirls were found waiting for the band. Two bodyguards made their way through the swarm to open the door and help Peter through to the building. But right as Peter left the car, Ann quickly closed the door in fear of the girls noticing her. At that second, she realized she missed her only cue to get inside the studio. There was no way she was pushing her way through another group of wild teenage girls after what happened last time when she was with the Dave Clark 5. Because of this, she had to accept that she was going to miss the performance. _‘Ah…damn…’_ She took a glance out the back window to find Mike’s car arrived and the musician sped into the doorway all on his own, with half of the girls not even noticing him yet. Sighing, Ann took out a mini-notebook from her bag and began doodling. After what felt like an hour later, Ann felt the car moving again.

“Wait…where are we going?” This didn’t look like the front of the building they were heading to.

“There are too many girls surrounding the station,” the driver explained. “The boys have to exit through the roof and climb down from the side ladder.” 

“Are you serious?!” Ann’s mouth went agape. “Wow…”

Speeding up to beat the girls to the escape ladder, the driver told Ann to open the door as soon as she saw the guys. Right when she recognized Davy, she tossed the door open and waved to get his attention. He saw her and swiped Peter’s arm to have him follow. In seconds the two of them hopped into the limo and Ann slammed the door closed. Letting out a sigh of relief, she closed her eyes and leaned back into the car seat. She felt Davy give her head a quick kiss. “Thanks, luv,” he said and moved to the other side of the limo to look out the windows. Peter then gave her a peck on the cheek. 

“You’re the best.” Feeling her face heat up she just gave a breathless wave and smile.

“I don’t know how you all deal with that on a regular basis. Wait!” Ann suddenly exclaimed. “Where are Micky and Mike?”

“I saw them get into the car behind us,” Peter answered. “Let’s get out of here!”

Back at the hotel, Ann followed Peter and Davy up to their hotel suite to wind down and chat. She popped a bottle of champagne, already knowing not to worry about the room service charges. She noticed Peter sitting crisscrossed on the floor rolling something that wasn’t a cigarette. He fake-startled when he saw her stare at the joint, and pretended to be caught like a kid in trouble.

“You toke, little lady?” He offered.

“Uh…I think I’m good with the champagne right now…” She replied while looking for some flutes to pour the bottle.

“Yeah, Peter. Don’t be a bad influence on a good girl like Annie,” Davy mock-scolded his mate.

Ann snorted at that and Peter chuckled lightly. She poured two glasses and handed one to Davy before crossing her own legs on the floor in front of Peter. “Where’d you learn to do that?” She asked before taking a sip from her glass.

“I don’t even remember,” Peter responded after a drag. “Probably my ex-wife.”

Ann gave an instant spit-take of champagne in shock at his answer. “I’m sorry,” she began while covering her mouth. “But…what?!”

Davy sat down next them amused at her reaction almost as much as Peter was. “You didn’t know the silly Monkee had a secret life?” 

“But…I interviewed you the most out of everyone in the band…”

Peter just shrugged. “It didn’t have anything to do with the show or my music background.”

“Aren’t you 23 though? How long did it last…?”

“No, actually—” He quickly moved his head around, pretending to see if anyone was eavesdropping in the room. “I’m 25,” he fake-whispered. “And we were only together two years.”

Ann just sat there bewildered. “So…what happened?”

“It was back in New York.” He tossed his hair to the side while inhaling another drag of the joint. “Youth and stupidity, the usual deal.” 

“And your age?”

“Our first press announcement got my birthdate wrong and I didn’t know if we were even going to be a hit at the time. Then I kept forgetting about it,” he explained.

“Whoa…you’re older than Mike.” 

Peter then slapped his hand over her mouth and shushed her. “You know too much already!” Smirking as he lowered his hand, Ann stuck out her tongue in response.

Davy was the one to break the silence. “So now it’s your turn to tell us about your secret husband, Annie!”

Ann let out something between a laugh and a snort. “Like I have any time for a boyfriend.”

“Ah, Saint Ann,” Peter joked and tapped her nose with a ‘boop’ sound.

She playfully smacked his hand away. “I’ve gone out with guys, just…not lately…”

“But none with any of us cheesy popstars, right, luv?” Davy joked.

“Well…actually…”

Peter cocked an eyebrow at that. “Oh, really? Who?”

Ann took a swig of her glass. “You know Herman’s Hermits?”

Davy guffawed out loud. “You fooled around with Pete?”

“No, not Herman himself. But the bassist, Karl…” 

“See, I knew you had a thing for bassists!” Peter shook her knee playfully.

Ann giggled and set down her flute. “Sure, but you’re more like a guitarist moonlighting as a bassist.”

The next thing Ann would remember is waking up still in Peter’s and Davy’s room, on top of one of the beds. She was still in yesterday’s slacks and short-sleeved blouse, though her shoes were on the floor. Noticing an arm draped over her side, she realized Peter was sleeping next to her, also still wearing his clothes. She quickly tried to wrack her brain with what happened last night after he revealed he was once married, and she revealed she kissed a Hermit. But all she could recount was her and Davy eventually sharing a cigarette, and Peter grabbing his acoustic and strumming for a bit. _‘What…?’_

She felt Peter lean closer into her while still asleep. Right then the door to the suite opened and Davy rushed in, already dressed for the day.

“Hey, you two’ve got to get up. We’re leaving in two hours.”

Peter stretched at the sound of the English accent. “Morning already?” He gave Ann’s middle a squeeze before leaning up.

“I need to get to my room. I look like a mess.” Ann felt her heart race a little.

“Nah, you look great actually,” Davy suggested before downing a cup of orange juice.

Flushed, she quickly grabbed her purse and shoes and headed for the door. Davy followed to show her out.

“What…exactly happened last night?”

Davy just shrugged, “Nothing much. You and Peter got a little goofy from the drinks and weed. I was still as charming as ever, of course.” 

“Oh…okay…” Ann still wasn’t convinced, but took that as her answer before dodging out of the room. Simultaneously, Mike walked out of his own room on the opposite end. He raised his eyebrows at Ann’s current state of bedhead, messy make-up and slept-in clothes. She mumbled a “don’t” before rushing to her end of the hall.


	4. Don't Call on Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK, so on Ann's FB she dates Jimmy Page meeting the Monkees on 'Sep. 6th, 1966.' But that doesn't make much sense to me since the show didn't even premiere until the 12th and Ann even says she met the band the week the pilot aired. So I just moved the incident a whole year ahead even though it clearly happened sometime during the first season, heh.
> 
> ETA: Since posting this fic, I've discovered Jimmy actually met the Monkees on October 25th, 1966 in case anyone's wondering.

Ch. 4: Don’t Call on Me

Hollywood, September 1967

“This is so exciting! The guys are going to love this. They never get any cool rockstars visiting the sets. I mean, not that they aren’t cool themselves, but—”

“I understood your suggestion, darling,” a soft English voice told Ann as they walked into the Screengems studio lot. One of the photographers from the Tiger Beat offices was to her left; and to her right was Jimmy Page, the third and current lead guitarist for the UK blues-rock band the Yardbirds. The band were currently stopped in SoCal on tour, and Ann got a call from their main roadie saying Jimmy wanted to meet the Monkee boys. To his right was one of the tour roadies as an entourage. 

Ann lightly laughed at the endearment. The accents still made her swoon even a couple years into meeting bands of the British Invasion. “Ok, so here’s the Monkeemobile…”

Exiting the costume department, Peter and Micky noticed Ann and Jimmy walking to the props corner as Ann was showing him the original basic red car for the pilot. 

“Hey, is that Jeff Beck?” Micky asked.

“No, it’s the newer guy the Yardbirds are touring with,” Peter corrected.

Ann continued casually conversing with Jimmy on the other side of the lot. “So, is this your first time through California?”

“No, I visited LA with an ex-girlfriend two years ago.”

“Oh, that’s…nice?” She wasn't sure how to respond to him referencing a failed relationship.

“It was very inspiring. But this is even better,” Jimmy claimed.

“Oh, really?”

“How can it not be? I’m getting a tour of the Monkees television set from a pretty girl,” he flirted with a wink. She couldn’t help but let out a giggle. _‘Damn, that line actually worked.’_ “I actually met Eric recently—”

“Hey, Annie. Who’s your new friend?” Micky’s voice interrupted as he and Peter made it to their side of the lot.

“Guys, Jimmy Page from the Yardbirds wanted to see the set and meet the group! He’s a big fan," she revealed with genuine excitement on their behalf.

“Hey, man.” Micky offered a handshake to the British guitarist. “Appreciate the support.”

As Jimmy went to shake Peter’s hand after Micky, Peter rapidly raised his arms in the shape of an ‘X’ crossed over his chest. “Sorry, no session guys allowed anymore,” he joked in a pseudo-stern tone. Jimmy then gave an authentic look of amusement, not expecting the American to know his previous line of work. 

“Don’t worry, my session days are quite over,” he reaffirmed. 

“Hey, how about a photo op?” The photographer suggested while checking his camera.

“Oh, good!” Ann agreed.

Right as they were moving to fit into the camera’s angle, Peter noticed Jimmy’s hand lifting to subtly grab Ann’s forearm to scoot her closer to his side. Before Jimmy could get her attention, Peter caught her in a fake, playful head-lock and expressed a dramatic expression. Not fazed by the prank, Jimmy chuckled and the camera snapped as Ann was mid-shock.

The following week, Ann walked through the set of “The Flying Nun” for a change of pace. The new family sitcom was shot right next to “The Monkees,” so the two teams became familiar with each other fairly quickly. Ann was stopping by for a brief interview with Monkee producer Bob Rafelson on this season’s possible holiday special before heading out to a Jimi Hendrix press event. As she walked through the entrance, Ann spotted the Flying Nun herself urgently moving ahead.

“Hi, Sally!—” But Sally barely gave her any attention. Ann also noticed she looked a little put-out as she kept walking. _‘Okay…weird.’_

“Annie, can you spare a dime for the coke machine?” Davy suddenly appeared in front of her.

“What’s going on with Sally? She looks upset,” Ann pondered.

“Dunno,” he shrugged.

“Ugh, you didn’t tell her that dumb ‘head’ joke, did you? Only you and 12-year-olds think that’s funny, Davy,” she claimed.

“Hey, a sense of humor is becoming lost art!”

Ann just rolled her eyes. “The sense of humor is failing if the subject of the joke is insulted instead of amused,” she explained.

“It’s not like we have anything out for her, we say that line out of context to everyone for a laugh,” he defended.

“Maybe it’s time for a new tactic then…”

On her way back to her car, Ann spotted Mike setting up his motorcycle as he was about to leave for the day too. A lightbulb turned on in her head.

“Hey, Mike!” Ann called as she skipped over to his bike and he simultaneously revved up his engine. “Turn off your engine for a sec!” She yelled.

“What? I can’t hear you!” He shouted back.

“I know, turn off your engine!” She repeated.

“Sorry, my engine’s running!” 

Realizing what he was doing, she just stood there with a smirk before Mike finally stepped his foot off the peddle and let go of the handle. He laughed at his own antic.

“Did you really just use your own TV gag on me?”

“If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it, as they say.” Mike then leaned on his vehicle and waited for her to continue. 

“Guess what day of the month it is.”

“Pay day?”

“Nope! It’s been 8 weeks and you’re due for an update in both Tiger Beat and Monkee Spectacular,” she revealed.

Mike just groaned in response.

“I need a new interview and profile on your future aspirations,” she continued.

“Tell you what, Annie,” he began as he took a hold of her small notebook and pen hanging out of her pants’ pocket and started writing on a random page. “This is my home number. You can call and set a meet-up with my wife Phyllis, and she can give you all my dirty, little secrets you need! Incredible!” He said in mock-amazement at his own idea then handed the pad and pen back to Ann. “Hell, you can even stop by my house when I’m not around and talk to her all you want. Christian’s in need of a new babysitter to boot.”

Ignoring his last comment, Ann just replied “Oh…I guess that’s one way to do it…”

Straightening his brown aviator jacket and lowering his sunglasses back over his eyes, he turned on the motorbike for a second, legitimate time. “Have fun at the Hendrix soiree tonight.” 

“Thanks—wait, how did you kno—” But she was cut off by him immediately speeding toward the gate without another word.


	5. I Prithee

Ch. 5: I Prithee

Hollywood, October 1967

“I’m not trying acid with you, Peter.”

“Annie, I’m telling you, it’s the most incredible out-of-body experience!” Peter insisted. 

“I’m fine having fun inside my body,” she tossed back. The two were lounging in an oversized black ‘box’ with only two large candles for light. Peter took a puff from a joint he was enjoying before handing it to Ann.

“I mean,” she paused to take a drag herself, “look how long it took for me to smoke with you.”

She let out a small cough from the smoke-filled room. She didn’t smoke weed on a regular basis like Peter did, but by now she had partaken in a few joints socially since his first offer. 

“And we’re still completely cool and having a good time! Same thing with acid.”

She still wasn’t convinced. “Pass.”

“It’ll be great, I got that groovy new strobe light in my house and the Shankar record I bought on Haight,” he furthered while taking back the joint. “And I’ll be there, your personal protector!” He added with an additional flex of his forearm. She smiled and sat back in thought for a moment. Peter was definitely the Monkee she spent the most time with and they always had fun. It had been a little over two months since she woke up in his arms in Dallas, and nothing had yet to advance there. She was worried he might have regretted it and curb their friendship, but he neither made another move or denied her. In fact, he just went back to acting like nothing happened. She had noticed before he was generally flirty. Maybe she just overreacted. So Ann carried on being friendly as well.

She sighed. “I don’t know…you hear all those rumors about what happened to Brian Wilson...”

He just exhaled and waved his other hand carelessly. “Brian’s been a ticking bomb his whole life. The only way you can get impaired from a bad trip is if you’re already mentally vulnerable. Neither of us have depression or stress easily. Unless you have a split-personality I haven’t been introduced to yet…”

“Not that I’m familiar with,” she stated nonchalantly. 

Three days later, Ann shut off her recorder after speaking with both Peter and Micky on a field of grass right outside of the studio. From her angle she could still see into the lot and most of the Monkees’ set. Just as she turned her head, she noticed the band’s press photographer discreetly leaving Mike’s trailer and heading toward the powder room. She was tall, bleached blonde, with statuesque features, and left with a cool air about her. She looked more worldly compared to Ann’s all-American features.

“You guys know the photographer who shoots around the set and recording studio? Nurit?” Ann asked after a couple minutes of silence.

“Yeah, I love Nurit. She always has the best pot. That reminds me, she still owes me an ounce from last week,” Peter replied.

“I just saw her leave Mike’s trailer for the second time this week…”

Both Monkees only sat in silence without any reactions. Not satisfied with their non-answer, she raised an eyebrow, hoping they would pick up on her current suspicions. Eventually Micky just tossed a wildflower in her lap as an attempt to break the tension. _‘I guess that tells me all I need to know…’_


	6. Writing Wrongs

Ch. 6: Writing Wrongs

Bel Air, April 1968

Ann slid her car into the recording studio’s parking structure early Saturday morning. Late last night she received a sudden phone call from Peter urging her to meet him at the studio for an ‘emergency meeting.’ He sounded very nervous, and she had to wonder what could be worse than NBC canceling their show two months ago. Ann, like most people, was shocked and disappointed at the announcement. Even more frustrating to Ann was the band’s apparent support of the decision. They had told her that they were now more interested in focusing on the music and experimenting with feature films. “You guys are seriously making a terrible decision,” she insisted. “Ending your series at the prime of your popularity is career suicide.” 

“The show’s already past its prime, Ann,” Davy explained. “We wanted to expand the satire, but the network still wanted to play it safe for the kids. So we moved on.” 

Ann shook her head at the memory of the conversation as she stepped out and locked her car. Exiting the building elevator, she found Peter absent-mindedly noodling on one of the pianos in the private studio. She knocked on the open door before stepping inside the room. “Hi, sorry I’m a little late.”

Peter quickly got up and gave her a hug. “It’s cool, Micky and Davy already left, but I don’t think they really need to be here for this.”

“What’s going on? Ever since you called there’s been this eerie mood lingering.” 

Peter let out a breath: “Phyllis was in a serious car crash last night.”

Ann’s eyes widened as she gasped. “Oh my God! Is she alright?”

“Well, she’s alive. But it was really bad. Her whole cheek was gauged and she could barely move. She should’ve spent the night at the hospital, but you know Mike’s and Phyllis’ religion doesn’t allow modern medical care…” Ann noticed he put an annoyed emphasis on the word ‘religion.’ 

“Jesus…do you know how she is right now?”

“Last I heard from Sammy, she finally got some sleep…I guess we just wait until we hear from Mike about anything else.” 

Ann sighed in disbelief at the information she was just told. She glanced back up at Peter, noticing he looked like he was still holding something back.

“…What? Is there anything else?” She asked bluntly.

“Um…You know how Nurit’s…a close band friend now?” He asked in return awkwardly.

“Yes? I mean, she hasn’t really been around the studio or rehearsals much lately, so I thought maybe she got another job.” 

“Well…she ended up being kind of closest with Mike…” He continued.

“You mean them having an affair? Is that even a surprise? We were all thinking it.”

“I know, but there’s a little…more than that…”

“What, like him starting an affair after Phyllis became pregnant again? That is extra trashy.” 

Peter looked around briefly, even though the room appeared to be just them, and pulled her forward. He whispered in her ear and Ann’s mouth dropped open. “Oh…oh my _God_.” 

“You honestly can not tell anyone,” he enforced.

“No, of course not,” she agreed. There was a long pause before she added. “I…I don’t even know what to think right now.”

“Yeah…it’s a lot.”

“Well…if you guys need anything…I’m always here for you,” she offered weakly. 

Peter smiled softly and rubbed her upper arm appreciatively.

Twenty minutes later Ann left the studio, feeling in need of some fresh air. Just as she got to the lobby, she saw Mike exiting the elevator on the other side, rushing out with a box under his arm. 

“Mike, I’m so sorr—”

“Not now, Ann,” he abruptly interrupted. “Actually—”

“If Phyllis needs—”

“Don’t you dare think about writing about any of this. I know Davy or Peter have probably already spilled everything to you by now,” he warned.

“I’m not going to write any—”

“That’s the last thing we need right now. I don’t need it and Phyllis doesn’t need it. Just back off and keep your shit to yourself.” He was towering over Ann, and for the first time since his faux-proposition a year ago, she felt legitimately intimidated by him. She’d heard that Mike could be overly emotional, but she fortunately hadn’t been around during those moments. She stood there frozen when he left the building in an angered huff. When she eventually made it back to her car, she sat in the front seat and let her eyes tear up. 

****

Two weeks went by with Ann barely speaking to anyone in the Monkees’ circle. She talked to Peter a couple times on the phone and she heard from Davy once, but she hadn’t talked to Micky, and she especially went out of her way to completely ignore Mike. Instead she focused all her time on covering the production of the Beatles’ animated movie **Yellow Submarine** and an upcoming Elvis TV special. She now had an additional third column for New Music Express across the pond, and it felt good to contribute some more serious and ‘grown-up’ pieces for a change. Saturday was going to be the release party of the Monkees’ latest album, ‘The Birds, the Bees and the Monkees.’ Ann was still their most reliable reporter, so naturally she was expected to attend. She chose to appear wearing a simple black dress and leaving her hair down. She asked Genie to tag along to possibly break the awkward tension that might occur that night. They arrived ‘fashionably late’ (by 15 minutes), and Ann grabbed the first glass of white wine she saw. Only to grimace as she swallowed the liquid. _‘Oh, right…I hate wine.’_

The girls spent 30 minutes chatting with Micky and his fiancée, model Samantha Juste, before Ann and Genie eventually separated when Ann found Davy, and Genie discovered a photographer she knew was at the party too. Grabbing an appetizer from a server, Ann noticed next to the window Mike had somehow gotten cornered by three male journalists. He looked his typical annoyed self at the nosy personalities. She went to turn away when—

“Ah, Ann! You know Mike, come join us,” one of them called to her.

 _‘Damn it…’_ she groaned to herself and stepped over to the corner with her piece of cheese and cracker. She gave the group a smile, trying not to look as uncomfortable as she felt. She tried to look at Mike’s expression out of her peripheral vision, and could tell that he wasn’t smiling, but didn’t look mad either. Actually, she was having trouble reading the look on his face.

The journalist to her left took a swig of his beer glass and asked “What do you think of Mike’s western-rock influence? I always thought ‘The Girl I Knew Somewhere’ should’ve been an A-side, but he’s always harping on how he can’t write pop tracks.”

Ann was silent for a couple of seconds. _‘Why is this happening…’_ Finally she just came up with something as she felt Mike staring through her. “Oh, well, you know. I hear there’s still an opening for a new member of the Byrds since David Crosby left. Mike’s so talented he’d fit right in as a Byrd as much as a Monkee.” She concluded the statement with a bite of her food.

Mentioning the Byrds got the reporters on a tangent of how the band are past their prime. Ann took the opportunity to ignore them and get a decent glance at Mike. He looked conflicted, but not upset at her. She could tell he was holding back his emotions, either out of pride or because of the party guests or both. Even though she felt frightened the last time she saw him, she knew deep down he was just using her as an easy target for his anxiety. Eventually she softly asked, “How’s Phyllis?”

He waited a long moment before replying, “Better.” 

For the first time, Ann saw a split second of regret flash before his eyes before snapping back to his own drink. Taking that as good enough of an apology, she gave a slight nod before stepping back into center of the room. As she placed her used napkin on a counter, Ann felt something lightly touching her from behind. She twisted her head to the side to find Peter’s chin on her shoulder. “Oh, hi!...Did you just show up?” She asked while finding a wall clock and realizing she’d been there for almost two hours.

“Yep,” and he raised his wrist exaggeratedly. “Lost my watch.”

Ann just laughed. “Alright then. You’re not high right now, are you?”

“Nah. Well, not this second,” he jested with a wink. He grabbed his own alcoholic beverage and took her hand. “Come on, let’s go walk around outside.” She let him lead the way out of the clubhouse without saying anything. As they made it to the outside patio, she squeezed his hand for his attention.

“Is it just me, or are you mysteriously missing from this LP?” She half-joked. Ann had managed to listen to most of her copy yesterday and instantly noticed his presence was lacking on each song.

“Yes, it’s my new disappearing act. First you hear me play your piano intro, then you never hear me again!” He snapped his fingers for effect.

“Okay,” she laughed. “But I know you composed like…five songs during the sessions. What happened?” Ann persisted.

Peter just shrugged. “Creative differences.”

“That has to be frustrating.”

“To be honest…yes, it is.” 

Ann sensed he didn’t really want to talk about the production decisions despite his honesty, so she let it go. 

“Here, let’s take a seat.” Peter plopped down on the grass by a man-made pond next to the house. Ann followed suit, realizing and liking that they were still holding hands. She placed their clasped hands on her knee. 

“How do you like your new fancy gig at the English magazine?” Peter wondered.

“Oh, it’s great. I love my local kid readers, but it’s refreshing to write for my peer group, you know?” She then smiled because, as usual, Peter was the first one in the band to ask how her career was going. She leaned her head on his shoulder and they peacefully enjoyed the atmosphere quietly. After about five minutes, she felt him let go of her hand and casually place it on her hip. Her heart began to race a beat faster and she felt a blush come on. She looked up at Peter, her face only inches away from his.

“Hi…”

“Hey…” He whispered.

Not sure who was going to make the first move, she just sat waiting.

“Annie…?” Right as he said her nickname, she suddenly nudged forward and caught his lips in a kiss. She felt him sigh in relief and continue the kissing. He opened his mouth slightly and she let him explore her own. He used more tongue than she was expecting, but she found she liked it. Needing a break for air, she sighed with her eyes still closed as he leaned down to kiss her neck. Right as he kissed her earlobe, he carefully leaned her down to lay in the grass. She accommodated the new position and wrapped her arms around his neck. They continued kissing as Ann ran her fingers through his soft hair and he pulled her closer so that they were both laying on their sides. Ann was exploring the roof of his mouth and his hands were brushing the exposed skin her dress left on her back, causing goosebumps on her skin—

“See, I told you it was just a couple of kids.” 

Ann gasped and Peter mumbled “shit,” as they instantly let go of each other and sat up. Above them were the two security guards hired for the party monitoring with flashlights shining on them. 

“You doof, that’s one of the band members and his date. Sorry you two.” The other guard smacked his partner’s arm as they walked away with the second guard razzing the other man.

Ten minutes later Ann exited the clubhouse restroom after fixing her hair and make-up, and straightening out her dress. Her heart was still racing just as much as it was in the backyard, even with some additional sleepiness currently. It was almost 1:00 AM and she thought it might be the best time to leave since she drove Genie and herself to the party. As she waited for her purse and jacket to be handed back to her from the hat-check lady, she saw Mike chatting with his pal and sometime music partner John London. He appeared in a chipper mood compared to earlier in the evening. Ann waved to Genie on the other side of the room, motioning to her about leaving. Right then, Mike and John also made their way to the coat corner, still in conversation. Ann took a hold of Genie’s glass of water as she stepped up and took a sip, hoping to wake herself a little more.

“Say hi to the camera!” One of the photographers left at the party suddenly exclaimed right in front of them. Mike rapidly grabbed Ann’s shoulder and posed with an extra cheesy smile. Ann was less lucky and got caught mid-blink on camera.


	7. Come On In

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So you'll notice as the story progresses that Peter's ~harem of groupies/hippie ladies are missing from this fic. That's mainly because 1) I have no idea how I'd write him as a love interest with them around, lol. And 2) I didn't realize until halfway through writing the fic that they were even a thing as early as the second tour. Sooo...we're just going to pretend like they don't exist, lmao.

Ch. 7: Come On In

Laurel Canyon, April 1968

It was only 12 hours since she left the album release party, and Ann was still thinking about how she and Peter passionately kissed on the grass. She’d had some stellar necking sessions in the past, but this one was making her heart flutter on reflection more than anyone else. While she loved the experience and was hoping to repeat it soon, she was also now puzzled on where she and Peter stood as friends. They’d toddled that line of ‘friendly, but flirty,’ and now that they had officially reciprocated physically, she felt like they had to finally acknowledge it. Peter was always the hardest to read on what went on in his private life, even though he was always open with her. She had been friends with the band for a couple of years now, but Ann didn’t feel the need to pry into the guys’ love lives. There was her zine’s usual stock questions on their favorite places to go on dates and their dream girls; but these days she usually just left those surveys for the new interns around the office, while she focused on more A-list topics. And to be honest, she just felt weird thinking about it since she became legitimate friends with them.

Peter was the bandmate who took the new craze of peace and love the most seriously, and just went with the flow on most things. Ann noticed that he would hit on other girls, which didn’t bother her too much. They weren’t an item and she’d go on dates with other boys once in a while too. But it was hard to tell if he had lost all interest in relationships or just hadn’t found the right girlfriend. The others were surprisingly more modest than their peers with their social lives. Micky and Sammy were almost like the second wave of George Harrison and Pattie Boyd, with how good looking and charming they were as a couple. Davy was dating a cute girl named Linda, but Ann always felt bad that they had to hide their relationship because the band’s team fearing he would lose fangirls if he had a girlfriend. And because she had been following the band’s press their whole relevancy, she knew Davy’s past ‘dates’ with Sally Field and Deana Martin were primarily PR. And then there was Mike and his whole…situation. So that just left Peter as the unattached Monkee. And whatever happened to Leah? Didn’t they have a heavy history?

“Oh, they broke up last year,” Davy nonchalantly revealed as he turned out one of his horses in an open arena at the barn close to his neighborhood. 

“Oh…any reason why?” Ann asked as she sat opposite them on the benches while wearing sunglasses, jeans and a rainbow T-shirt.

Davy just shrugged carelessly. “Just said he didn’t want to end up in a possible scenario like Mike. Settling down is so out of style these days, you know,” he ended sarcastically.

Ann did know that Peter and Leah had been serious mostly at the beginning of their relationship, which was before he was cast in “The Monkees,” but they continued to casually see each other on and off once the show started filming. “That’s it? After everything?”

“I don’t know. We didn’t exactly have a heart-to-heart on the matter. They were barely together by the end anyway. Who knows.” Davy slapped the horse’s rear to get it to gallop again.

“But…don’t you think it’s odd he hasn’t been with anyone since then? I mean, like, in a serious sense.”

Davy raised his right eyebrow at her insistence. “What’s got you all curious about his life all of a sudden?”

“Oh, uh, well,” Ann stumbled to think of an excuse. “I was just wondering, because one day they would be all cute during breaks on set, and then the next he would be flirting with me—I mean, other girls.” 

If Davy noticed her slip-up, he didn’t acknowledge it and just said, “Well, he is all hippy-dippy now. Maybe he just prefers no labels.”

“Yeah…I guess. That’s the thing now, huh? The sexual revolution is all about free love and eradicating marriage? …Maybe I’m just behind,” Ann suggested.

“Maybe. Peter does score the most with groupies when we’re out of town, so it’s probably just easier to be single.”

That comment stopped Ann’s thoughts dead in their tracks. The word ‘groupie’ was still fairly new, but she only ever heard it in the context of sex. Even more, she knew that when they were involved on tours, all rules were off no matter what the musician’s relationship status back home. She then remembered hearing stories of Peter participating in nude love-ins and psychedelic freak-outs, but she never asked him if they were true. One, she didn’t want to make it anymore awkward than it was imagining him at those places. Two, some of those hippie rumors just sounded so ridiculous that she figured they had to be embellished.

“…What?”

“Oh, groupies are—”

“I know what they are. But…the Monkees have groupies?” She legitimately never considered it before and then wondered if she should have. Why not? Even if they started their tenure from a television production, they still performed, recorded and toured just like every band.

“Eh, barely. To be honest, my whole ladies’ man spiel is one of the more ‘manufactured’ parts of our image. I actually enjoy just being with Linda most of the time,” Davy confessed.

That made Ann smile warmly. “I’m happy for you.”

He returned a grin, “Thanks, Annie.” 

Her mind quickly wandered back to Davy claiming Peter was a fan of casual sex. Now she was wondering where that placed her. Was she just another girl he made it with when he was home? That didn’t make her feel good if that was the case. She crinkled her nose and forehead in frustration.

“Hello?...” She snapped out of her pondering and saw Davy in front of her waving his hand to her face. “Okay, what is going on with you? Your mind’s been elsewhere all morning. Did Peter make a pass at you?”

“I mean…in what sense?” She answered weakly.

Davy rolled his eyes. “Did he express that he’s sexually attracted to you?”

“Well…sort of…”

He kept pushing the topic. “Did he kiss you?”

Ann finally sighed and placed her face in her hands. “I think I kissed him first.”

Davy suddenly leaned back and let out a big laugh. Ann sat there confused, not expecting the extreme reaction. “Uh, what?”

“Nothing, luv,” he said as he regained his breath. “Micky just owes me $10 now.”

****

Later that afternoon, Ann drove up to Peter’s bachelor pad near the top of Laurel Canyon. She’d only visited a couple of times, but it had a great view of the city’s skyline plus a pool. She also loved how ‘Peter-ish’ the interiors were with fashionable Indian influences and hippie accessories. And of course, plenty of records and music instruments all over the residence. She knocked on the door twice before it ultimately opened. “Annie,” he smiled with excitement and embraced her in a hug. She leaned into him, the emotions from last night instantly returning. She sighed blissfully and let the hug linger until he eventually pulled away. “I’m happy you stopped by.” 

She smiled gleefully. “Me too.” Peter took her hand and lead her through the living room until they reached the kitchen. He let go of her to open the fridge and take out a jug of what looked like a fruity drink. 

“You want something to drink?”

“Sure. Whatever you’re pouring looks good.” 

“’kay—oh wait, I forgot this one’s spike with LSD!” He proclaimed with a smile that showed he was clearly joking. Ann just rolled her eyes with her own smile.

“Hey, want to jump in the pool?” He asked while handing her a glass.

“Maybe later…Actually, I have a couple of things I want to talk about…” She slowly started.

Peter’s eyebrows slightly rose at the hesitation in her voice. “Alright. Shoot.”

Now that she had his attention, and after thinking about him all day, her mind suddenly went blank and she didn’t know how to begin. She could write and edit any article off the top of her head, but asking him if he wanted to be more than friends was a struggle apparently. After a long silence, she ended up asking awkwardly:

“Am I your friend?”

Peter laughed in amusement. “Are you kidding?”

“I mean, I know we’re friends, but…Davy’s also a friend, and I don’t know what his mouth tastes like,” she explained.

“Really? I do,” Peter slapped his chest in fake-shock before continuing smiling.

Ignoring his joke, she continued, “Speaking of Davy…I talked to him this morning…”

“Bitching about ‘the powers that be’ hiding Linda again? He should screw all that publicity crap. Those jealous girls will realize how silly all this is in a few years anyway,” he claimed before taking a drink from his glass.

“No, he barely mentioned her. I think they’re sweet, to be honest.” She partook her own drink.

“Oh, they’re fine. I think I’ve spoken only about five words to her though.” 

“Peter…” She started again. He just waited contently and curiously. “Last night was a lot of fun, huh?”

“Sure was. Well, the outdoors part anyway,” he added with a wink. 

Ann felt her cheeks heat up. “I…I don’t know what we are right now…” She felt more foolish by the moment.

“Well, me personally, I think a round two sounds good. Maybe even indoors. On a softer surface…” Ann didn’t think her adrenaline could be any higher than it was presently. She let out a relieved gasp.

“I want that too!” Instantly feeling juvenile, she slightly lowered her voice. “But…if we’re more than friends…”

Peter looked at her peculiarly as she slowly spoke. 

“…I don’t want to be…just another groupie.”

He laughed in more amusement, apparently not expecting her to use that word. “That’s not a term I would associate with you.”

“But you are a fan of them, right? I mean, they’re obviously fans of you.”

“Annie, that’s just, like…fun that happens on the road...occasionally.”

“I don’t buy it. You’re the only one who’s not tied down, nothing’s holding you back from embracing ‘free love’ or what you want to call it,” she observed. 

“Ann, it’s 1968, labels and traditional roles from our parents’ gen—”

“Can we put the flower child philosophies on hold for a second, please?” She insisted. Releasing a big sigh of breath, she started over. “Last night…I really enjoyed kissing you, you’re a great kisser. It felt amazing, and I’d like us to be more than friends.”

“That’s great! So do I! So what’s the hang-up?” He insisted as well.

“When I went home, I thought back on the moment a lot. It felt…romantic at the party.” 

“I thought so too, Annie,” he said sweetly. 

She closed her eyes and sighed in both frustration and infatuation. “When you got home…was it the same? Or did you go back to the other girls as soon as it was over?”

“I haven’t seen anyone since last—”

“You know what I mean.” _‘God, this is torture…’_ she moaned mentally. “I just…don’t get what the big deal is with promiscuous sex and musicians. There, I said it! I’ve been working in music for three years and I just don’t get why it’s so hard to hold it together. Is it really that difficult to reject the first woman who throws herself at you?”

She had rendered him momentarily speechless. He clearly had never been confronted about all of this from a critical view.

“I mean, look at Mike. He regularly slept with Nurit when he was only 30 minutes away from his wife and son!”

“No one supported that and still doesn’t. Nurit was my friend before she even met the band. I gave him more shit for that than anyone else. You think I would do something that stupid?” He countered back.

“I don’t know. You were married once, maybe that’s the reason it ended for all I know.” She winced as soon as the words left her mouth, and he stood taken aback. She leaned on the kitchen counter and rubbed her forehead. “Sorry…” 

Peter waited a moment before leaning forward and taking her hand. “Relax,” he suggested softly. “I really think this is an overreaction. Hey, I can get you to be my plus one on tours in the future! How about that?”

“I have too many job commitments for those long of breaks.” Plus she knew that wouldn’t be a guarantee for fidelity. She looked up at him and pensively studied his face slowly. “I don’t think I could do the hippie love thing, to be honest…” She confirmed.

He rubbed her arm supportively. “You’re fine.” She appreciated at how endearing he always came across and smiled. She leaned forward and kissed him chastely. Ann allowed him to open their mouths for a split second before stepping away. She straightened her posture before running her hand through her hair. 

“If we were to become a couple…I already know it would be easy for me to be completely yours. And it wouldn’t be hard to fight temptation…” She waited what felt like a minute for him to respond, but he didn’t. He just offered a reaffirmed smile. Realizing he wasn’t going to verbally reassure the same back to her, she felt her stomach drop. Letting out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding in, she grabbed her car key off the counter. “I think…I’m just gonna go.”


	8. Do I Have To?

Ch. 8: Do I Have To?

LA, May 1968

Ann felt like she had aged a decade in the past month. It had been three and a half weeks since her unfortunate meeting with Peter, and she still hadn’t spoken to him since. She wasn’t mad, just disappointed. She didn’t know how else to move on, so she just stopped talking to him. If he contacted her first, she probably would answer. But he hadn’t, so…here they were. Now Micky and Davy were the only Monkees she was directly talking to, and that wasn’t much lately either. She ran into Davy a couple of times while they were both in town, and then saw Micky at the Whisky one night, but that was about it. She gave most of her Monkees projects to her new assistant editor, and there really wasn’t nearly as many as there used to be since their show ended. Ann instead put most of her energy into focusing on their peers like Bobby Sherman, the Raiders and the Standells. And of course, she still tried to be the best host to all the UK acts visiting southern California. She did catch up with the Who when they returned, and they spent a whole day at Ferndell Park with her for a photoshoot. She noticed Roger hitting on her again, but this time she casually flirted back. But really, the most fun was messing around with John and Keith on the swings. 

In an attempt to feel less attracted to Peter, Ann also made a serious effort at dating for the first time this year. While at the RCA offices for a set of interviews, she hit it off with one of their staff songwriters, Harry Nilsson. Because Hollywood was so small, she tried not to let it affect her that one of the bands he had written for was the Monkees. Harry was only a year older than Mike and Peter, yet something about his demeanor and experience made him appear more mature. He didn’t have Peter’s boyish charm, but he wasn’t as stoic as Mike either. Feeling rebellious, she asked Harry out at the end of the interview. When he happily agreed, she then went even further and offered to make dinner for him, not feeling in the mood for a club or crowded restaurant. She was elated at how genuinely interested he was in her suggestions. 

With her being rusty in the kitchen lately, Ann was worried she would ruin the pork chops and rice pilaf she chose to cook. Fortunately the dinner was decent enough in the end, topped with a bottle of a white German wine. Ann also made sure she bought a sweet wine, so she would be able to somewhat enjoy it with him. It turned out he was the perfect distraction she needed right now. He didn’t know anything about her personal problems and seemed interested in her career and hobbies. Around the time Harry was eating a second brownie she offered as a dessert, Ann leaned forward and kissed his cheek softly. “I don’t have a roommate…” 

The whole night was great and the sex was good, but Ann still woke up feeling hollow emotionally. She couldn’t help but compare Harry to Peter, and she had to admit her brief encounter with Peter made a deeper connection. _‘How does that even work? We barely did anything.’_ After she kissed Harry goodbye, it hit Ann that this was the first time she had sex on a first date. She frowned at the thought. Making a cup of coffee and adding a load of laundry to the washer, she wondered how most of the men she knew could regularly go through with one-night stands.

That night she was awoken at 1:34 AM to her phone ringing. As her brain slowly computed what the sound was, she eventually stumbled over to the living room. “Hello?...” She groggily mumbled.

“Hi, babe. We got you a pass for the concert sequences in Utah after all. We’re leaving through LAX in a Learjet at 7:30 in the morning in three days, so don’t show up too late.”

She recognized his voice, but it took a few seconds to remember the name that came with it as she got her wits. “…Bert Schneider?”

“You bet. You’re still coming, aren’t you? You know you’re still our favorite journalist.” 

Ann snorted at that claim, knowing he and Bob Rafelson didn’t think much of journalism, let alone pop culture journalism. 

“Two years in and not a single negative article on the Monkees in Tiger Beat or even NME.”

Ann smirked a little at him acting like she wasn’t encouraged to write fluff pieces for Tiger Beat. “Too nice for my own good, I guess.” 

“Plus we’re short a blonde on the VIP list.”

Ignoring the comment, she continued the conversation. “Honestly, I forgot all about the show being shot out of state.”

“Yeah, we noticed you split from the production last month. Had enough of us?” He asked.

“Just…got busy with other assignments,” she stated simply.

“Okay, well, bring your recorder, camera and hottest dress. Peace.” And then she heard the dial tone. Ann made a quick note to remind her staff the next day that she had an impromptu business trip. 

The Monkees’ feature film debut was finally near the end of filming after an epic four-month shoot. Ann usually spent most of her job visits in recording studios, concert venues and television sets. So arriving at Columbia Studios back in February the first week of production made her feel a little starstruck for the first time in years. She had heard their movie was sharing some of the same sets at Paramount as the crew for **Rosemary’s Baby** , and she tried to keep a look out for Mia Farrow and John Cassavetes on the lot, yet to no avail. As soon as she found the band and Raybert, she felt more familiar territory. 

“Did you read the script?” Peter asked her while smoking a blunt.

“Oh, yeah, I did! But I think I might have gotten an incomplete copy. It was just a dozen or so scene descriptions without any plot,” Ann explained.

“There isn’t a plot.”

“No plot? How are people going to follow the story then?”

“Sometimes you don’t need a plot to see what’s going on,” he said lazily with another hit.

“…I don’t get it.” Ann was confused. “What’s the point?”

“It’s like…metaphorical, allegorical, historical…” He rambled nonsensically. Not convinced, Ann grabbed the weed from his hand.

“I’ll just take this…” She commented as Peter shrugged when she walked away. She waved her hand in front of her face at how much stronger the substance was than she was used to. _‘Jeez, what is this, hash?’_ She wondered before handing the substance to a random key grip she saw walking by when Peter was out of sight.

Ann later discovered the supposed screenplay was mostly written by Bob’s and Bert’s new buddy Jack Nicholson. He was only a B-movie actor, but his popularity had quickly grown around tinsel town the past year. Ann wasn’t exactly sure what to make of him. He had rugged good looks and a great voice, but also one of those personalities where she could never tell if he was making a pass or just way too naturally charismatic. She also gave pause when Davy told her Jack artistically seduced the band and Raybert with weed and acid to convince them to let him work on the film. Suddenly she started sensing what was going on.

Even though it was looking like most of her readers wouldn’t be in the age bracket for the movie, Ann spent time around the sets taking photos and getting some quick quotes. She had to roll her eyes a little at one of the first scenes shot being a belly dance sequence to Peter’s song ‘Can You Dig It.’ _‘Didn’t we already do a similar bit on the show anyway?’_ Still, she moved around the room and got some shots of Peter, Mike and Davy being lavished by exotic dancers. Finding a bit of down time as the cast and crew looked at some dailies, Ann sat next to dancers Toni Basil and Helena Kallianiotes on the prop pillows. Toni probably would have a career like Cyd Charisse in movie musicals if she had been born 10 years earlier, and Helena was almost as big a hippie as Peter. The next week, Genie tagged along with Ann for the scene where the guys each get kissed by an attractive woman who rates their techniques. But the girls ended up missing most of the shooting because of traffic caused by a car accident en route. Ann secretly was fine with being late to the lot though, not wanting to possibly feel second-hand awkwardness at her friends’ passionate content. 

When Ann and Genie finally arrived, they met the lucky girl in question, Mimi—who was apparently dating Jack off camera. Genie asked if the band’s kisses really were ‘even’ like she claimed in the scene, to which Mimi casually replied ‘no.’ Genie then joshed her into revealing who was the best and, without hesitation, Mimi said “Mike.” Both friends looked amusedly surprised at the answer. Genie laughed slightly saying she was expecting Davy, and Ann internally assumed Peter (even two months before she got her own confirmation). Ann spent the end of her visit the following Friday eating an ice cream cone while Micky smoked a cigarette next to her. She was excited for the guys to be a part of a glamourous movie production at first, but it was soon becoming apparent that was not the case. 

“…I don’t think the movie’s going to be a hit,” she finally confessed.

“Why?” Micky asked after a drag.

“Well…how are you even going to describe it, let alone promote it? One day you’re filming a Broadway musical number, the next you’re in the Bahamas for an underwater mermaid sequence, then there’s the Vietnam war parody…Does Bob have a title yet? What title would even fit this whole romp?” Ann questioned at the end of her tangent.

“I don’t know. Who cares, Ann,” he carelessly responded as he walked back into the make-up room. His words pretty much summed up the whole vibe of the film set. The band was clearly burnt out on ‘playing’ the Monkees all the time, the studio execs didn’t know how to market it, and worst of all, and Ann could feel Raybert plotting to get rid of everything Monkees related with this movie. She had overheard them talking about wanting to work with Jack, Peter Fonda and Dennis Hopper on independent films as soon as they could be done with the Monkees’ brand. Thus there is now…this. Micky and Davy were treating the project like any other acting job, which made sense considering their backgrounds. Peter was trying to keep an optimistic outlook each day of filming. But Ann was practically embarrassed for Mike, who was obviously sucking up to Bob and Jack, like a little brother looking for validation from his siblings. 

The one aspect of the movie that was turning out to be legitimately decent was the original songs for the soundtrack. Ann was around for a couple of sessions, which had started all the way back in December, and thought they showed real ambition and maturity. Gone were their bubblegum pop origins, now replaced with contemporary, psychedelic melodies and lyrics. Goffin & King’s efforts were stellar as usual, but Ann was happy to find Peter got two of his own songs after being completely wasted on ‘The Birds, the Bees…’ Even Mike rocked it a little harder on his newly penned ‘Circle Sky.’ The only shame was that the record was basically a glorified EP.

While walking through the recording corridor, Ann could hear Mike’s vocals in the middle of a session. She recognized the lyrics as Nilsson’s ‘Daddy’s Song,’ and she was just as surprised as everyone else when he opted to be the bandmate to perform it for the movie. The song’s theme was about an absent father, and it wasn’t a secret Mike grew up with a single mother. Ann casually leaned against the wall until he was finished 10 minutes later. He opened the door to find her standing in front of him. He didn’t look upset and she didn’t bother to look guilty at eavesdropping. She just made a soft smile. 

“Little close to home, huh?”

Not responding, Mike just tossed his jacket over his shoulder and lightly touched her arm to move her out of the way as he carried out unceremoniously. 

The following week Davy told Ann that the number was switched to him because of his musical theatre training.


	9. Look Down

Ch. 9: Look Down

SLC, May 1968

“Good morning, starshine!”

Ann was abruptly broken from her peaceful state by the presences of Micky and Davy. It was early Thursday morning and she caught a taxi to the airport. She ended up arriving 15 minutes ahead of schedule, so she took the extra time to just sit with her sunglasses still on and eyes closed for a quick rest.

“Long time no see,” Micky continued.

“I’m pretty sure I saw you two weeks ago,” she corrected.

“Ah, well, two weeks is like two years with this group.”

Not responding to the statement, she took her glasses off and glanced around the lobby. Bert, Bob and Jack had arrived and were lounging on the opposite end of the room. Near them were Henry Diltz, longtime friend and frequent photographer of the band, and four more men Ann didn’t recognize, but assumed were a part of the film crew. 

“Hey, you look like us,” she heard Davy say.

“Huh?”

“Your outfit. Bob wants us to wear all white for the concert performance,” he explained.

Ann looked down at her clothes and just said “oh.” She was wearing an all-white travel suit and white boots. She didn’t feel like wearing a lot of colors when she packed for whatever reason. At that moment they heard the door open and saw Mike enter with his usual suede and shades. Micky then animatedly began singing ‘here we come…walking down the street…’ for a reaction, but Mike didn’t call back.

“Hello, Mike,” Ann called with wave of her hand with barely any effort. But again, he kept walking without acknowledgment and headed toward Bert, Bob and Jack. “Charming as ever, I see.”

“Damn, where did the sass come from?” Micky asked her.

“Is it sass or just cynicism? I’m having trouble telling the difference anymore,” Ann said dryly. 

“Hey, hey!” A third voice came from behind them with Peter entering right as they turned their heads. He had a big smile on his face that made Ann feel a small butterfly form in her stomach. This was the first time she had seen him since their awkward meeting at his house. “Annie! It’s so great you’re tagging along again.” He commented optimistically as if there was no tension at all. “We thought maybe you’d left us for Bobby Sherman for good,” he teased.

She opened her arms with a smirk and in a slight pose, she replied: “Well, here I am. Couldn’t say no to Raybert, what with my relevancy existing because of their show.”

Peter shook his head a little, “Nah, you’re too talented of a writer. Someone else would’ve caught your attention eventually,” he claimed. She stayed silent at his compliment and tried to ignore the increasing butterflies she could feel growing. While she was still not comfortable with their tainted friendship, he was making an effort to go back to how they used to be. She wouldn’t have blamed him for being concerned or even upset for the past month of her ignoring him, but she was now reminded of how naturally friendly he was. Whether he was doing it honestly or just to make the trip less uncomfortable, she wasn’t completely sure, but she did appreciate him being nice on a surface level.

“Did you do something different with your make-up?” Micky suddenly asked. “Something’s different, but I can’t tell what…”

“It’s the hair,” Davy answered.

“No more bangs!” Peter exclaimed correctly. He then leaned forward and drew an imaginary square around her face and tapped her nose. “I think it’s great. We can see all of your face.”

She couldn’t help but instantly smile at the gesture. The whole exchange was reminding her of how things were before. “Thanks.” She also noticed that his facial hair had returned since working on both the film and the additional record. This time she didn’t give him a hard time about the lack of hair maintenance, as nearly every man she knew was also growing their hair out. Though she almost wished Peter had gone for a full beard, as the mustache and sideburns he was currently sporting were a bit goofy to her mind. And like the boys had pointed out, she had her own little make-over too. After growing her hair out, she wondered why it took her so long to change it. Especially since her forehead didn’t feel nearly as oily by the end of the day now.

“Hey you four, our ride’s here,” Bert shouted over to them and headed over to the gate entrance. Ann grabbed her purse, carry-on and smallest suitcase for the three-and-a-half-day trip. 

Inside the jet, Ann began the two-hour flight attempting to read a magazine, but gave up after she accepted she couldn’t keep her mind straight enough to pay attention to the words. She then decided to take out one of her smaller notebooks and began journaling.

“So you and…” Davy was opposite her and motioned to Peter at the end of the plane, “decided to stay friends?”

“Um, yeah…I guess,” she awkwardly answered as she got a quick glance at the guitarist/sometime bassist. She noticed he was tapping his leg to some beat he was hearing in his head.

“Bummer,” Micky offered as he took a seat near them. “You and Peter look cute together.”

Mike’s head shot up at the last comment and he turned to face the conversation from across the aisle. “You and Peter are together?” He asked with genuine surprise.

“Oh, uh, not…really…I don’t know. It’s a long story,” she rambled midst her own shock that he was supposedly interested in her life for once. There was a pause for a few seconds before Mike muttered something that sounded like a mix between “oh” and a grumble, before focusing on his portable music player. Ann noted his expression turned to something between regret and embarrassment. 

Eventually Davy and Micky moved around the plane to stretch their legs and mingle. Ann went back to her notebook but sensed someone walking up to her. She raised her head to find Jack with his usual recognizable smile that she could only compare to a shark. He took a moment to speak. “…Annie, right?”

“Ann,” she corrected plainly. “Moses,” she then decided to add.

“Yes, the head girl of Monkee Spectacle—”

“Spectacular,” she corrected again and closed her notebook currently. 

“Yeah, right…” There was another slight pause before he continued. “Hey, I think it’s great the fellas have their own magazine—especially moderated by a female editor. You know, I’m all for women’s lib,” he claimed as he took the seat next to her.

“Hm, really?” She asked casually, but only mildly interested.

“I’m a bit of a writer myself,” he added with another grin.

“Oh, I know,” Ann responded, trying not to express the fact that she wasn’t impressed with his ‘screenplay’ for the Monkees’ movie.

Right then, Peter left the snack counter with a coke bottle when he noticed Jack and Ann conversing. He placed the drink on the mini-table attached to his seat when Ann suddenly excused herself to use the restroom. When she made it back to her aisle, Peter bolted over to the two passengers and placed his arm around Ann’s shoulder.

“Hey, Jack, buddy. Looks like one of the stewardesses is struggling to mix the cocktails. Why don’t you give her a hand, huh?” Before Jack could answer, Peter quickly directed Ann over to his spot. As soon as they were in front of the seats, Peter playfully grabbed her waist and pulled her into his lap as he sat down. Ann let out a squeal, but laughed at the trick before he slid her on to the seat next to his. Ann caught her breath and smiled at how familiar the prank felt momentarily.

“Forgive me, m’lady, but you were of immediate rescue,” he joked in a manner that reminded Ann of the episode ‘Fairy Tale’ from their show.

She laughed again, “What?”

Peter slightly motioned with his head over to Jack’s spot. “You know he was trying to pick you up, right?”

“You mean, like you just did?” she countered with a cocked eyebrow.

He nudged her knee, then continued, “I’m just warning you, Jack has a…vibrant reputation.”

 _‘So do you,’_ Ann wanted to say, but instead suggested, “Well, thank you for that. But I’ve been a big girl for a few years now, and I think I already know how to dodge pervy men on public transportation.”

“Hey, this isn’t public, it’s a private jet!” Peter jested elaborately. Ann just rolled her eyes and stayed at the back of the plane next to him for the rest of the flight.

Three hours later, the limousine driving the Monkees’ team rolled up to a hotel resort in Salt Lake City and were greeted to a group of ten junior high age girls outside the front entrance. It wasn’t nearly as many girls as the previous year when Ann traveled with the band, but it could still potentially be a hassle. Mike and Davy mumbled as the girls found the limo and began screaming and waving. Peter waved at the window animatedly, even if they most likely couldn’t see him through the blackened screens. Ann knew where this scenario was going and instantly grabbed her purse and carry-on bag a moment before the car pulled to a stop in front of the entrance. She purposely made sure to sit next to one of the doors just in case of this type of dilemma. “Excuse me, boys,” she declared right as she high-tailed it out of the car and sprinted into the hotel lobby before at least half of the girls noticed her. As she halted in the middle of the room to contain herself, she turned to see a security guard leading Mike into the building, followed by Peter, Davy and Micky each with their own guard (except for Davy, who had two). Behind them, Bob and Jack followed the band sans guards. The rest of the men had followed on the road in a separate town car.

Ann then moved to where Davy and Micky were standing. On her way over, she heard Mike and Peter theorize when Monkeemania would die down like Beatlemania did two years ago. Suddenly she heard Jack let out an exanimated howl as he was the last to enter.

“What a gas!” He chuckled at the hyperactive young girls still outside the building attempted to look into the glass walls as the security tried to handle the situation. “Maybe I should’ve gone into music after all.”

Ann raised her eyebrows and placed her purse over shoulder as he strolled over to her. 

“That was pretty slick moving from you. Clearly not your first rodeo.”

She just shrugged. “When you’re with these guys as much as I am, you quickly learn how to get a grasp of these kind of occurrences.”

By the time she made it inside her room, Ann’s suitcase had already been brought up and was sitting by her bed. She ran her hand over her face before changing out of her travel clothes and into a denim skirt, a white T-shirt with a big red star on the front and some basic flats for shoes. Besides a bit of Vaseline, she chose to go make-up free. She didn’t bother with a sweater either since summer was around the corner. She placed her notebook from earlier inside her purse, grabbed her camera out of her carry-on bag, and finally put her room key in her skirt pocket before leaving the room.

The band, film crew, plus Ann, Jack and Henry spent the rest of the day touring the town and the venue for the mini-concert at the local theme park, Lagoon in Farmington. The performance was tomorrow, so they used the time to make sure the equipment, sound system and props worked properly. The band’s instruments were already there when they arrived, with Peter instantly jumping up to warm up the organ and bass. Soon Mike followed with his guitar, and asked Micky to test out the drum kit. Eventually Davy joined in on an impromptu soundcheck jam featuring Mike’s songs ‘Sunny Girlfriend’ and ‘You Just May be the One.’ Ann used the first song as a chance to get some good photos up front and personal, with Peter and Micky hamming it up the most, and Mike doing his usual aloof schtick. Once in a while she’d notice Bert and Bob looking concerned and whispering to each other, but tried not to think much of it. 

By the second song, Ann set her camera down, knowing Henry wanted to indulge in the moment with his own photos anyway. Instead, she jumped up and started cheering along to the song as if she was their number one fan (which she sometimes still felt like). The dancing and singing got Peter and Davy to groove even more. She couldn’t exactly place what it was, but their playing and chemistry was on a whole other level this time. She always championed them as a fan and a reporter, but it was like someone turned up a switch this go. She hadn’t felt like this during a concert since Monterey Pop, and it was only the soundcheck. As Mike finished his last lyric of the song, she stood there exhilarated at the group.

Peter was the first to break the silence with a chuckle, “What is it?”

“You guys are seriously good,” was all she could say.

It was Micky’s turn to laugh at that. “Were you lying the hundreds of other times you called us good?”

“No! I mean, I…I don’t know. It’s just…extra good right now…” Ann tried to explain, but couldn’t properly put into words.

“The guitar still sounds like shit,” Mike broke the mood complaining. “I tuned it numerously and it’s still tin. I can’t figure it out.” 

When she got back to the hotel later that night, Ann used the first floor phone to call her mom and Genie with updates on her traveling. Her mom gave her a hard time for being the only woman a part of an all-male entourage, but Ann just let her vent without reminding her this wasn’t her first time. Then she basically listened to Genie rave about the new folk band Fairport Convention she saw play at the Troubador. She was particularly taken with guitarist Richard Thompson, which was no surprise to Ann, knowing her friend’s taste in men. After hanging up, Ann went straight to her room for bed knowing tomorrow was going to be a long day.

Jumping into the town car at 8:40 AM, Ann settled herself in between Peter and Davy. She was relieved and surprised by how quickly she could get back to feeling normal around the former after only a day, but she credited it to Peter’s character. They arrived twenty minutes later at KCPX radio station for the band and Bob to promote their special appearance and future film. Like yesterday, Ann, Jack and Henry followed along, but this time the film crew and Bert were absent. Ann wore a casual pair of black pants, feminine loafers, a brown blouse and a scarf as a make-do tie around her shirt’s collar, since radio appearances were always casual. She caught a look at Peter at a certain angle as they walked into the station and couldn’t help but let out a giggle.

“What?” He asked, amused at her amusement.

“I’m sorry, I’m still not used to that…’stache,” she explained while covering her mouth to stop smiling.

“It’s me incognito,” he quipped while fake twirling it. 

“You look like Rodney,” she laughed again.

“Who?”

“You remember Rodney Bingenheimer? The kid who doubled for Davy in the Prince & The Pauper episode,” she reminded him.

“Oh,” he chuckled. “…Really?”

Ann smiled jovially and patted his head. “Don’t worry, you’re much cuter. Usually.”

As their appearance began, Ann started getting déjà vu to last summer when she was in a similar setting in Dallas. It was crazy to her how only nine months could feel like nine years with so much happening since then. She made a couple of notes on the band’s trip experience so far for her own job before sitting back and just watching them clown around at the DJ desk. One of the reporters tried to pull an old ‘can you play your instruments?’ gag, but Mike immediately cut him off asking if he can play his own radio cuts. Henry eventually stood up and started shooting photos around the room, before Davy pulled him to the mic to say hi. Micky then roused Ann to get up and say hi to the listeners as well. Smiling, she jumped up and stood in between him and Peter, and told Salt Lake City good morning. The more people gathered around the corner of the room, the more crowded it became. Ann felt Peter’s hand land on her lower back as he leaned against the wall for everyone to fit by the mics. Even if it was most likely unintentional, as she could tell his hand was in an awkward half-fist, the motion still made her instantly freeze and think back to last month. 

Her mind started rapidly wandering back to how it felt when she was in his arms, and her heart started to quicken mildly. _‘No…god damn it…’_ Right as she took a deep breath, Peter tried to straighten his hand. Feeling his fingers on her back through the shirt only made her panic and suddenly turned away. “Excuse me,” she quickly muttered as she squeezed past Micky and awkwardly pushed Mike out of the way. She rushed to the nearest bathroom to control herself and get a few breaths. So much for everything being normal again.

Ann decided to take a break outside and headed to the front entrance, where she spotted Bob and Jack already leaving. They tried to chat her up, but she wasn’t really feeling it and sloppily asked for a cigarette as a weak excuse to end the conversation. Bob grabbed one from out of his jacket pocket and Jack lit it up for her. She thanked them and headed toward the bench and ashtray next to the front door. With her mind still on the recent incident upstairs, she sat and took a few drags absent-mindedly. She was so annoyed she ruined her comfortableness around Peter again. A few minutes later, she turned her head to spot Mike leaving the building and looking around the lot. Ann watched him silently for several seconds until realizing who he was searching for.

“Bob and Jack already left the station, Mike.”

Turning around he stood blankly for a moment before taking a seat next to her. “Oh…well…you know, I was just wondering…” he mumbled without bothering to finish the sentence. He took a breath and paused slightly when he saw the cigarette in her hand.

“Have you always smoked?”

Ann didn’t expect the question. “Oh, no…it’s fairly recent,” she replied and awkwardly took a drag.

Mike just nodded and went back to stewing. Ann had been curious the whole film shoot why he was so interested in being around Bob and Jack. She knew Mike, and the rest of the band, always looked up to Bob as a mentor, but he was going overboard now. Knowing he wouldn’t give her a direct answer anyway, she attempted to break the silence with some chit chat.

“So…how’s the family?” She asked plainly.

“Fine,” he said while leaning forward with his forearms resting on his thighs.

“The kids?”

“They’re fine too,” he repeated antsy.

“And…” _‘Don’t say it, don’t say it…’_ “…Nurit?”

Not even before she finished saying the name, Mike hopped up from the bench and treaded elsewhere. Ann cringed at the reaction she caused.


	10. Don't Wait for Me

Ch. 10: Don’t Wait for Me

SLC, May 1968

Ann spent the rest of the day awkwardly dodging Peter and mostly sticking around Henry at the concert venue. Only a half hour after arriving, Ann could sense something was off with the pre-show prep. Taking out her recorder, she got into job mode and asked Davy how he was feeling about the live filming aspect of the gig as he walked up to her. Instead he ignored the question and told her the show is being rescheduled and relocated. Bert and Bob apparently weren’t happy with the management’s rules on shooting footage inside the venue. She stood bewildered.

“What about all the fans who volunteered to be extras? They’re waiting outside!”

“Not sure. Bert hasn’t told me that yet.”

Fifteen minutes later Davy, Peter and Ann successfully convinced Raybert and the two other band members that the show should still go on for the fans, even without the film. The first couple of numbers were a little bumpy, what with the change of plans psyching everyone out, but they made it through seamlessly by the end.

The next afternoon, everything was packed up and delivered to Valley Music Hall in SLC. This time the audience of extras and fans were a combination of some of the kids from last night again and local teens in the neighborhood. Ann tagged along in a long-sleeved black mini-dress and black ankle boots with most of her legs exposed. Like Davy mentioned the morning of travel, the band was all dressed up in white wardrobes. Peter, Micky and Davy in white pants, with Peter in his old thick, soft sweater and a beady necklace, Davy in a turtleneck and Micky in a buttoned-up shirt with a long scarf. Mike was in one of his trademark suits, only this time all white. Ann could still admit Mike was a good-looking man and fleetingly wondered if she would be attracted to him too if he typically wasn’t such a pain in the ass. Fortunately she only had to deal with being physically interested in one Monkee currently. 

While in costuming yesterday, Peter used the restroom to shave his facial hair for the movie’s continuity. As he stepped out clean shaven for the first time in weeks, Ann couldn’t help but let a smile run across her face. With his youthful features returned, she was instantly brought back to when she was first getting to know the band and having a blast covering the show and concerts. She so wished she and Peter could go back to goofing off and being playful with each other. Choosing not to let anxiety hit her, she leaned forward and ran a hand through his bright auburn hair. “Aw, you’re still a cutie after all.”

Peter responded by wrapping his arm around her waist and mimicking her playful tone, “I knew I could always count on my favorite Monkee girl,” with his own smile. “I hated not speaking to you this past month,” he revealed.

“I would have talked if you had called,” she confessed.

He gave a lopsided smile. “Shame I wasn’t born a mind reader.” 

Placing her hand on his shoulder, Ann let him lead her out of the hall.

Back in VMH, Ann waited backstage with the band and Jack as the musicians ran through their usual warming up and group huddle for luck. Ann didn’t ignore the fact that Mike purposely sat next to Jack the whole time he was tuning and noodling his guitar. 

“Mike, man, let it go,” she suddenly heard Peter proclaim. “I already tested it this morning, there’s nothing wrong with the guitar.”

Ann was surprised Mike was still going on about his instrument as she didn’t hear any issues with their jamming two days ago. She wasn’t a musician, but he clearly was hearing something she didn’t. After a taking a handful of photos, Ann placed her camera next to her purse and wished the guys luck as they headed out to the stage. 

“God damn! You hear that?” She jumped slightly as she heard Jack cackle while looking out into the hall. “Don’t they ever stop?” He referenced to the loud, rowdy fans being encouraged by a local DJ hired to keep them energetic throughout the shoot. 

“Some people only dream of a reception like that,” Ann said as she took a look at the crowd herself. Her mind briefly passed back to the very first time she met the Monkees and how their fans hadn’t lost any of their dedication 20 months later. _‘Well, the little girls haven’t anyway.’_

“Well… there’s no accounting for taste,” Jack commented dryly.

Ann creased her brow slightly and silently used his statement as confirmation for her suspicions. 

While sitting in one of the front rows of the round stage in the middle of the auditorium, Bert, Jack, Ann and Henry waited with the fans as Bob staged the film crew. An additional man was also roaming around the set in charge of the audio mastering. Roughly ten minutes later, Ann heard the fans switch from chanting “we want the Monkees!” to just general screeching. She turned her head to see the band running through the designated aisle and up to the stage while waving at the crowd. Ann jumped up and cheered along with the girls. She waved at the group excitedly, managing to catch Micky’s and Peter’s attention. As they took their positions on stage, Peter smiled joyfully while tossing his bass strap over his shoulder, which caused Ann to smile as well. She then noticed Bob and the cameraman move toward Mike’s side of the stage right before the guitarist went into the opening chords of ‘Circle Sky,’ with Peter instantly responding to with his own riff. As Micky and Davy chimed in for percussion, the band started rocking to the beat. Mike’s vocals caused more screams and she noticed the film crew precisely moving around the stage for close-ups of the instruments and the guys’ faces. 

A shot of adrenaline rushed through Ann as she witnessed the musical experience up close. It was just one of many Monkees gigs she had viewed in person, but this current performance was something more than Monkeemania. Micky and Davy were jamming effortlessly, almost three years after growing beyond amateur musicians. Peter was enthralled with the music as he always was, and Ann would even go as far as to say this was his shining moment on bass. Not that she had ever doubted his musical abilities, but she knew his primary interests were guitar and keys, as he strictly stuck to playing those in the studio. Mike’s face and stance were all business, but his singing and playing were top notch. It was a rare instance where Ann could instantly sense she was experiencing something truly special in plain sight.

After ‘Circle Sky’ ended, the band continued with the arranged mini line-up for the night as Bob had the camera crew focused on more wide angles and reaction shots from the crowd. She noticed he kept going back for close-ups of a certain fangirl with long, blonde hair on the verge of tears. Bert and Jack both started walking around the floor space around the stage, either following Bob or just for different perspectives. Henry would also occasionally leave his seat for his photo shots. But Ann herself stayed put in a trance as she eyed the rest of the concert. For a moment she wished the girls weren’t so spastic as Peter went into his organ solo of Bach. As he was wrapping up, he raised his head to find Ann and gave her a smile and a wink, which made her swoon. Strangely, it felt good to feel like a legitimate fangirl after being so involved in showbusiness. It reminded her of a time when she didn’t have to worry about responsibilities or expectations. By the time the show was near the end, the band was grooving to ‘You Told Me’ with the crowd clapping in sync to the rhythm. Ann joined along with the fans in bouncing to Peter’s banjo picking. She felt a nudge on her elbow and found Jack next to her again, pointing at the band seemingly impressed despite his earlier comments. 

As the girls went crazy again right as the song ended, Micky and Davy gave a fake-out of pretending to run off the stage before Mike went into the riff of ‘Mary, Mary’ for the show’s encore. The four men then stepped away from their gear and took a bow as the girls continued the hysteria. Ann couldn’t help but leap into Peter’s arms with a hug as he walked off the stage, despite feeling perspiration on his body that usually came from live performances. 

“THAT is why I got into music,” he exclaimed pointing to the stage out of breath, but his smile still present. Ann heard more commotion from her side and saw Bob direct the fans to run up to the stage. Mannequins made to look like the Monkees replaced the real ones and the girls attacked ripping and shredding them. Bob had the camera move around closely at the action. Ann grimaced while still in Peter’s arms. _‘Real subtle, Bob…’_

Near midnight back at the hotel, Peter and Ann were French kissing softly outside his room. He had one hand on her jawline with his thumb occasionally rubbing her cheek, and his other arm propped up against the wall next to their heads. He broke away for a moment and she took a content sigh whilst her eyes were closed.

“Bit of a drag this is the last night of our little trip,” he stated and slightly rubbed her earlobe.

“Mm-hmm,” she agreed with her eyes still closed peacefully.

“Want to spend the rest of it with a Monkee?” He asked and kissed her lightly on the lips.

She slowly opened her eyes and peered at his face for a brief moment. “I don’t know…” She began. “There’s been tension lingering over this whole production since spring. The last thing you guys need is a girl getting in between you.” She ended with a smirk to show she wasn’t entirely serious.

Peter breathed a slight chuckle. “You think any of the other guys have a thing for you?”

Ann hadn’t thought about it much before. She always figured most of her Monkee friendships were platonic, but she also remembered Genie insisting to her that men secretly imagine sex with all their female friends. She’s never been fully convinced on that theory, but now she was considering it. If Micky and Davy were interested in her, they didn’t show it as they never attempted more than a hug, and their joking around never came across as flirtatious to her. And Mike, well. If he was interested, then she never would have guessed it; unless he was a big fan of the 4th grade method of annoying your crush to get her attention. Not giving that possibility much attention, she went back to Peter’s question.

“I just meant you don’t need another distraction,” she answered with a small smile. 

“Ah,” was all he replied before leaning forward to sensually kiss her cheek, followed by her forehead, then her lips again. “So…” 

Ann took a deep breath, feeling her skin heat up. She now was faced with a second chance at choosing between staying friends or becoming lovers. Slowly opening her eyes, she took his hand and leaned forward to peck his lips.

“I think I’m gonna head back to my room,” she revealed and gave his hand a squeeze while motioning to her room at the end of the hall. With a soft smile, she straightened her body away from the wall. He looked faintly disappointed, but kept a warm smile to reassure her her decision was fine. “See you in the morning.” She gave his hand an additional squeeze before leaving and heard Peter turning his key in the door when she was suddenly reminded of something.

“Actually, you know what,” she started while abruptly turning around. He paused with his hand still on the key in the lock and perked up slightly.

She took her own pause before starting again, “This is going way back, but…”

“Oh my. Are we getting Freudian? And here I thought Mike was the only one with father issues.”

“Heh, no,” she said. “Remember last year, when we were all in Dallas during the tour, and we spent the night messing around with Davy in your room? And then we woke up on the same bed?” She reminisced for him.

“Mmm, yeah,” he confirmed.

“Do you remember…did anything else happen in between the weed and the champagne and the sleeping?” 

Peter lowered his face and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively a couple times. Ann’s eyes shot wide at his reaction. 

“We did?!”

He waited a second before breaking into a smile and shaking his head. “I don’t think so, Annie.”

She let out a breath, “Oh,” then a little laugh. “Alright. I was just wondering, because, you know…” 

“Would it have been terrible if we had?” He asked as he leaned his side against the door.

“I mean…” She began again. “It’s just, if we had done anything, I would have liked to have remembered it. Of course.”

He smiled. “Me too.”


	11. Kicking Stones

Ch. 11: Kicking Stones

Hollywood, July 1968

Two months pass since the Salt Lake City show, with Peter and Ann gradually going back to their usual thing of being friends who hug and hold hands a lot. _‘I guess this is fine since I don’t have a boyfriend,’_ Ann thought. But then instantly wondered how much of their friendship would have to alter if she did start legitimately dating someone regularly. Ann set her pen in the ring of her notebook and replaced a used roll of film in her camera as she sat in one of the studio halls of Columbia Studios. Since the show was over and filming wrapped on the film, there had been a significant dip in anything Monkees related in the press, but she still found ways to make pieces on them. She stopped by to attempt an interview with Bob (and Jack evidently) on how they wanted the film to progress the Monkees’ image. But they barely gave her any substantial comments and mostly toyed with ambiguous answers. She was also shocked they still didn’t have a title for the movie.

Speaking of ambiguity, Mike just strolled through the hall. Ann was placing her lens cap back on when she noticed him pacing in front of the editing room door.

“Mike, did you pop some Pep before leaving the house today? Why the pacing?”

He briefly looked at her and just claimed “I’m cool.”

“Well, can you stand still for my sake? You’re stressing me out.”

He paused for a moment, looking like he was considering taking her suggestion seriously, which he ultimately did. As he stood against the door, he subtly tried to listen in on whoever was inside.

“I don’t think it’s coincidence the last three times I’ve tried to stop by this place that door is locked,” he explained.

“So? Why do you need to see the editing? You’re only one of the actors.”

“Because I was a part of the production process and am intrigued,” he answered directly.

“Okay, well—”

“Let me ask you something,” he interrupted. “How does a guy like Jack get this far and popular in this town so fast just by virtue of his personality and wit?” He was now standing closer for the conversation.

“Charisma goes a long way, I guess,” she suggested.

“I know he’s probably got some talent and yes, he is charismatic, but he was making straight crap before he met Bob and Bert,” he let out a frustrated breath.

Ann just sat there bewildered. Primarily because this was the most normal conversation she’s ever had with Mike and his commentary appeared mainly genuine.

“Say, I wanted to break into film and make my own features, would Bob even show interest or would he be too preoccupied with Jack?”

Ann’s brows perked up at his revelation. “You want to make your own movies? Really?”

Mike then blinked blankly without answering. She wondered if he was regretting speaking to her.

“I mean, it didn’t feel like you cared much about screen production back on the show. Even Micky and Peter directed a couple episodes,” she pointed out.

Mike just turned away and continued moping.

“I can tell they don’t think I’m up to their level,” he finally confessed.

Ann just continued to be baffled at how much honesty he was spewing. _‘NOW he chooses to do this?’_

“You know, I’m just some hick with a nudie suit and a knock-off Jim McGuinn chord progression,” he sulked sardonically.

She had no idea Mike had insecurities about his personality and artistic abilities. His cool and collected impression always seemed so effortless, she just figured it reflected as much internally. 

“Well…I wouldn’t beat yourself up over it. Not many hicks living in Bel Air. Unless they have the last name ‘Clampett,’” she added for humor.

He pursed his lips in frustration again. 

“Peter’s from Connecticut and they treat him just as decently as you,” she added.

“I just can’t pinpoint which exact occurrence turned them off from hangin’ with me,” he confessed.

“Mike, no offense…but it’s probably because you’re really weird,” Ann tried to reveal carefully.

He stayed expressionless. “…How?”

Ann sat up and leaned closer. “Well, let me take you back. Remember last year, when Linda Ronstadt was still with the Stone Poneys, and they recorded ‘Different Drum,’ and it became a big hit? And when I complimented you on writing a hit, you acted all put-out and annoyed?”

“Yeah. What of it?”

“Who acts offended over writing a hit record?!” She flabbergasted.

“Well, maybe I was hoping the compliment was coming from The New Yorker rather than Tiger Beat,” he suggested.

Ann snorted and leaned back, now reminded that they’re not usually friends. But when she gave him another look, he appeared like he might have meant it as a joke. She set her purse down next to the bench.

“You know, if you actually read the reviews of your band’s records, you might be surprised to find how many people actually enjoy your songs. Melody Maker put ‘Daily Nightly’ on par with ‘White Rabbit!’ She tried to assure him.

“Rolling Stone ragged on it,” he countered.

Ann rolled her eyes, “Okay, besides Rolling Stone then. Jann Wenner isn’t the end-all-be-all of music criticism, you know.”

“Doesn’t help when his publication has the most readers,” he kept persisting pessimistically.

“Mike… _I_ gave you a good review…” A slow moment passed when she watched a look of authentic appreciation spread across his face. She held her breath sensing this might be the first time he ever thanked her. _‘Come on…’_

“Well _of course_ the editor of Monkee Spectacular didn’t give the band a negative review. How would that look, Ann?”


	12. Tear the Top Right Off

Ch. 12: Tear the Top Right Off

Laurel Canyon, August 1968

With summer halfway through, Ann was feeling a sense of creative loss at the significant decrease in Monkees related news or projects. She wasn’t low on work, what with the Beatles, the Stones and the Kinks some of the few superstar bands with major releases coming up, but it did feel strange for the American pop group to not be her first priority. Most somber was the fact that Monkee Spectacular would be going out of print this month. The lack of publicity from their show and bigger, harder rock bands grabbing everyone’s attention made the publication’s readership considerably shrink. So Ann now put all of her work fully into Tiger Beat and NME.

Since their series ended, the four young men had ventured off to experiment with side projects. Micky and Sam got married back in July, and were leisurely enjoying the honeymoon period. Ann visited Davy’s place last month to discover Linda was pregnant and of course, keeping the news hidden. Peter had hit it off with George Harrison while visiting London last December just as George was soon to record a soundtrack for the arthouse film **Wonderwall**. He became so impressed with Peter’s music skills that he asked him to play banjo on some tracks. Ann caught a test screening of the film in May at Grauman’s with Genie and her date, who happened to work on the costumes for the film. Ann couldn’t help but feel delight when she recognized Peter’s picking. Mike released his very first solo LP called ‘Wichita Train Whistle Sings’ that featured 10 instrumental re-workings of some of his Monkees songs. Ann admired his dedication to produce a whole side album in a single weekend, but Peter wasn’t impressed Mike didn’t include himself with the session musicians on any of the recordings. “What’s the point of fighting for our creative freedom if we’re just going to go back to using session guys?” He contemplated to her. Actually, Ann was most surprised Peter hadn’t organized to arrange his own record. 

One day while stopping at RCA for an interview late June, Ann bumped into Mike as she was leaving and told him she saw an ad for his new album in the city. Rather than shoot some sarcastic comment, Mike ended up chatting with Ann outside for 20 minutes, with him even name-dropping some of the big names he got to record with. She recognized most of the names, so she knew he wasn’t messing with her like he might have in past interviews. _‘How bizarre I’ve casually talked to Mike so much lately,’_ she thought amazed. As she was heading back to her car, she made a mental note to give his record a plug in her next NME piece.

Now in the middle of August, the soundtrack for the Monkees movie was finally wrapping up, and Peter asked Ann to hang around the Friday of the final week of production. She stopped by the studio early hoping she could get to hear a couple of the produced songs before conducting a phone interview with Chris Hillman later in the day. While walking through the RCA halls again, Ann could faintly hear two male voices deep into an intense argument behind one of the recording room doors. She instantly recognized them as Mike and Peter. But before she could lean closer to learn what the fight might be about, she heard one of them say “Oh, fuck off” and the door whipped open. Out popped Peter in a huff, almost slamming into Ann. 

“What—what’s going on?” She let out startled at his action. She took a hold of his arms to get him to stay still as he attempted to kick the wall in front of them. Ann couldn’t remember if she had ever seen him this physically upset before. Usually when she noticed he was in a bad mood, he just gave the silent treatment or became snarky. Though she did hear about how he and Davy uncharacteristically got into a fist fight once on the US tour last year. (And now that she thought about it, she was never actually told the details on what provoked that fight.)

“Selfish prick…” He muttered to the door behind him.

“Was that Mike in there?” She probed.

Peter ignored her question. “Remember when we opened the Salt Lake show with ‘Circle Sky,’ and we were all real excited to show it on film because of how in tune we were with each other?” He asked in frustration.

“Yeah, the whole concert was amazing. I wasn’t joking when I said it was the best show you guys ever played,” Ann confirmed, still confused while letting go of his arms.

“Well, good thing you and two thousand fans got to be there to hear it, because no one else ever will!” He revealed animatedly. “Mike not only overdubbed his vocals and his guitar on the film scene. BUT he secretly recorded a studio version of his own that’s going on the official LP instead of the live recording. AND he convinced Bob and Gerry to be okay with all of this!!” 

Ann stood there stunned. “…What?!”

“Yep. That incredible performance to never be heard again.” Peter leaned his head back against the wall with his eyes closed and breathed heavily through his nose.

Ann’s eyes widened. “Really? He literally threw it away?”

“Well…no…it’s probably just shelved somewhere in the building. But this is still crap!” He complained.

“How did he record a different version of the song without anyone knowing?” She continued.

“Who the fuck knows,” Peter tossed still filled with anger. She understood why, but it was still jarring to hear him use profanity so prominently.

“Peter…” Ann tried gently, still at a loss for words. Suddenly he lunged forward and hit his palm against the wall opposite them, adding a grunt of annoyance. “Okay, let’s try and calm down for a little bit,” she requested while grabbing his arm again. “You can’t be a loving hippie pacifist if you keep hitting things.” She directed him to the lobby near the front entrance, while occasionally rubbing his back to get him to mellow. Right as they made it to the couch, Ann saw Mike’s figure leave the elevator and head to the opposite end of the hall. She told Peter she’d be right back and abruptly ran after Mike, slowing as she reached him. Knowing he likely wouldn’t answer her calling his name, she went straight to grabbing his arm and tried to turn him to face her.

“Did you really get rid of that performance?” She confronted.

He didn’t respond and attempted to keep walking instead. But Ann wouldn’t budge and stepped in front of him. “What the hell’s the matter with you? Why would you do that?”

“The author of the song should always get say—”

“This is not a songwriting decision, this is a band decision and you know it,” she argued.

“My guitar was shit—”

“Everyone told you your guitar sounded fine,” she persisted.

“Well, the whole point of the performance was for the movie, all concert sequences have some overd—”

“Not the point here.” She was now fully upset on the band’s behalf.

“Why don’t you mind your own business for a change, Ann?” He struck.

She let out a noise between a snort and a chuckle. “Maybe you haven’t noticed, Mike, but I’m not just some little girl following you around set anymore. I’m a legitimate friend of everyone in this band. Well, everyone except you, clearly.”

Mike took off his sunglasses before continuing. “Give me a break, alright, I already got most of this from Peter upstairs.”

“Good, you deserve it,” she shot back.

“You sure you two aren’t going together? Because, man, your wavelengths are really synching up—”

“Knock it off, Mike,” she shot back, then took a frustrated breath and rubbed her temples. “I just can not for the life of me figure out what goes on in your head most of the time. I’ve been trying to read you for the past two years, and I just don’t get it. Congratulations, Mike! You won! The media—and your fans—have no idea who you are!” She flailed her arms for dramatic effect as her emotions rose.

“Well, that’s fine. No one takes our music seriously, so it doesn’t matter if they know me,” he argued.

Ann sighed tiredly. “Look, I’m sorry you’re not some respected country/folk/western music artist and you had to settle on a pop group. I’m sorry your demographic turned out to be 12-year-olds instead of hip 22-year-olds, and I’m sorry your band’s power trio technical abilities aren’t Cream or Hendrix’s Experience. But I can guarantee you that the majority of the world is not out to get you. I’m literally only doing my job.” The last statement came out as if a big weight had been lifted off her back.

Mike stared at her emotionless and unblinking throughout her whole outburst before finally replying. “Yeah, and I’m doing mine.”

Ann just threw her head back in defeat. “You’re unbelievable,” she told him before turning around to return to Peter.

Back at Peter’s house, Ann took the rest of the day to emotionally support her friend who was feeling betrayed by his bandmate. They were currently seated on his living room coach, with Peter lazily strumming on one of his acoustic guitars. When Ann saw him frown slightly in thought, she scooted over to wrap around him in a side-hug. “Aw, it’ll be okay, Pete. You’ve survived worse,” she reminded.

“Yeah…sometimes I wish I could’ve found a way to stay in New York,” he revealed.

“Well…if you’d stayed in New York, then you might not have met me, and I’m pretty sure I’m the best thing in your life,” she joked. 

He smirked, “You have a point there.”

Ann let go of him to get herself more situated on her spot when Peter remembered something.

“Hey, you know what?”

“What?” 

“Nurit gave birth last week…” He revealed.

Ann just sat for a couple of seconds to let the comment sink in. “Well, now he has two things to feel guilty about this month,” was all she said.

Peter absently nodded in agreement before going back to the guitar. Ann excused herself to replace her empty coffee cup with some water. As she strolled to the kitchen, she stopped halfway in path and gasped with instant realization. _‘Ugh, man...’_ It hit her that she completely spaced on the phone interview with Chris Hillman. She’d been so caught up in all the drama with Mike and Peter that she forgot about an assignment for the first time since her teen freelance days in Orange County. Groaning, she changed her direction and grabbed her notebook from her bag to make a note to embarrassingly reschedule first thing in the morning.

Holding a full glass of water, Ann stepped out of the kitchen to find Peter had moved out of the living room. Assuming he was either in the bedroom or music room, she continued down the hall. 

“So guess who totally forgot…” As she entered the music room, she heard the sound of a cigarette lighter. Turning her head, she saw Peter lighting an old-fashioned wooden pipe with a scent she knew wasn’t tobacco. Wincing slightly, she walked up to him and placed the water glass on a nearby coffee table.

“Hey, Annie, I finally fixed—”

But she grabbed the pipe from his hand and took a deep drag. Because it had been a couple months since she last smoked with someone, she let out a cough bigger than she was anticipating. Peter raised his eyebrows in surprise at her quick action as she nodded slowly, letting it hit her. “Mmm, you’re right. It is really good…” She let the smoke leave her mouth and lowered the pipe. Peter gave a cautious smile as she tried to not let her eyes water too much. “In fact…it’s so good…” She calmly moved over to the corner of the room where she spotted a small trash bin. “We’re just going to…” And she tossed the pipe upside down for the elicit substance to fall into the trash. Peter’s eyes shot open and he jumped over to her.

“Ann, what the hell are you doing—”

“Peter, you really don’t need to be high right now,” she claimed and gave the pipe an extra whip before placing it on the piano next to her.

“Are you joking? I think this is the perfect time to be high,” he returned.

“Oh, come on. You smoke more than anyone else I know. I promise you life is still fun sober. Sometimes.” 

“It’s just some weed—”

“It’s not just weed, I know you’ve added hash to your stash and I can smell beer on your breath half the time. And I know you still trip on acid at parties,” she countered.

“Yeah, well…” He didn’t really have an explanation to her correct assumption.

Ann hated to sound like a concerned mom, but sometimes it was the only way to reach through. “Okay, I know I defended you when your songs got shelved on the last album, and I still think that was drastic, but…Peter, I also know you spent half your studio time getting wasted with your Canyon buddies.” She hardly went to any of the sessions for ‘The Birds, the Bees…’ compared to ‘Headquarters’ and ‘Pisces, Aquarius, Capricorn & Jones Ltd.,’ but she could tell something was off when it hit her Peter hadn’t been involved with any of the other three member’s tracks instrumentally. Actually, none of the guys appeared on each other’s tracks that time around. But the point was Peter was the only one she hadn’t seen behind the recording booth. 

“I didn’t start the trend of rolling joints at the studio, Annie,” he tried to laugh off.

“Okay, well. Explain to me how Mike can finish a demo in one sitting after three beers, but you can’t complete one song in three weeks,” Ann interrogated.

“Mike’s a freak of nature. And it’s difficult to record sound effects of a real baby when you don’t have your own baby,” he explained.

Ann sighed and accepted that excuse momentarily. “Alright. What about the other songs?”

“Ann, no offense, but you’re a little out of your element here. Musically speaking.”

She wasn’t expecting that comment, but kept persisting. “You’re right, I’m not a musician. I’m not even really an artist, I’m a writer. So try to explain it to me, because you’re one of the most talented people I know, and I’m struggling to understand why it’s so hard for you to make your own music. Especially when you have all the resources now.” 

Peter stepped aside, grabbed the pipe from the piano and walked to the big sofa chair at the wall. “Don’t you turn on me too,” he half-heartedly teased.

“I’m not,” she claimed.

“Well it sure feels like it,” he said frustrated.

“Why? Because I’m worried about you?”

“You know if you smoked a little more of this, maybe we’d be actually be an item,” he irrelevantly tried as a distraction.

But it only made Ann snap her head to him. “Actually, we’re not an item because you didn’t want to commit. But now that you mention it, our relationship probably wouldn’t have lasted very long if your stash is this important to you.”

“I can’t help it if you’re not hip to current crazes,” he stated bluntly.

Ann stepped closer to where he was sitting. “I don’t think this is about me being ‘hip’ to anything. I’m not against smoking, I just think you need a break,” she corrected.

“The weed wasn’t the only thing you were conservative about,” he pointed out.

She let out an annoyed breath. “Oh, I’m sorry my idea of a date doesn’t involve an orgy,” she threw back. “Some people still prefer a little modesty.” 

He released with a faux chuckle, “What’s your definition of modesty? Because I heard you and Harry had a really fantastic date after you coordinated his profile for NME,” he revealed in a sarcastic tone.

Ann was taken aback for a moment. She didn’t remember even telling anyone about that date except for Genie. Then again, she knew Harry and Micky kept in touch, so maybe there was some overlap in the friendships. She creased her brow in irritation. “Yeah, because me being with Harry for a whole day is exactly the same as you sleeping around with a dozen women regularly. That’s a fair comparison,” she tossed back just as sarcastically.

“And the fact that you asked someone from our circle—”

“That was a complete coincidence,” she interrupted. “Do you realize how many songwriters you’ve worked with?”

Peter leaned forward in his seat, “All I’m saying is it sends a pretty clear signal that you were with him without a second thought, but I asked you out—not once, but twice!—and it was this big conundrum for you.”

“That wasn’t asking me out, you suggested sex!” She shot back.

“No!—I mean, yeah, but—“ He let out an annoyed breath, “I was hoping it would develop from there…”

Ann closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead in exhaustion. “I hate that today has been spent fighting.” She thought back on how the day started with her grilling Mike for going behind the band’s back, to now arguing with Peter about his drug habits and their lingering intimate feelings.

Peter ran his hand through his hair and gave a deep sigh, as if realizing how tired he was as well. “Me too.”

She carefully situated herself in front of him so they were at eye level. “Pete…you’re amazing at being a great friend.” She noticed his eyes light up momentarily. “I just…” Ann was struggling for the right words. “…I don’t know,” she finally concluded lamely. She didn’t know how to convince him to be completely faithful sexually if they were to officially leap into being romantic; and she didn’t know if there was a way to verbally do that without sounding like an idiot. There was also the fact that she wasn’t sure how well a relationship would go with someone interested in recreational drugs more than she was. “I just don’t get this whole…have random sex with whoever you want thing you and your musician friends always do,” she furthered as an attempt to better explain.

Peter smiled sweetly while placing a stray strand of hair behind her ear. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking. Not feeling satisfied with the end of their conversation, but also relieved they weren’t upset with each other currently, Ann let out a breath and stood up. Stretching slightly, she smiled. “It’s a little late. I think I should get back home,” she said.

Peter nodded contently and watched her go to the door. She turned back to him and added half-jokingly: “You gonna be fine without me?” 

He kept his slight smile and replied, “I think I can make it through the night.”

Giving him one more reassured smile, Ann went back to exiting the room, before she felt a sting of guilt hit her. Turning back one more time, she awkwardly apologized with “Sorry I threw away your weed.”

He shook his head understandingly. “Don’t worry about it, Annie.”


	13. Give It Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FYI: I might have re-written a lot of Ann's relationship with Maurice Gibb (like, I'm still not even sure where they met IRL, lol). But I did intentionally move up their courting a few months so the Peter/Ann stuff could happen in ficverse, for example.

Ch. 13: Give It Time

LA, October 1968

For the first time since summer of 1966, Ann had absolutely no obligations to report on anything Monkees related. Monkee Spectacular was out of print, so to make up for the lost work, she coined a new set of articles on pop groups trying to make it big in the era of psychedelic rock. One of her first pieces was on an English trio of brothers called the BeeGees. The group already had success internationally with a handful of records, but were still battling to breakthrough in the US. When Ann went backstage to a show they were playing at the Bowl in September, she noticed that one of the younger twins, Maurice, was answering her questions the most. He was a couple years younger than her (19 to her 21), but she thought it was sweet how shy he was, and gave him her number when he asked for it. She wasn’t particularly intent on dating anyone lately, let alone a music artist, but he reminded her more of one of the boys she grew up around back home. Maurice had this adorableness to him that was different than Peter’s. The latter had a goofy, fun quality that was self-assured; while the former was still young enough to be going through that awkward phase that Ann sometimes felt like she still hadn’t completely beat yet. 

Because the Gibbs lived in London, she’d only met up casually with Maurice three times so far (one lunch and two dinners), but she was more intrigued than she was previously imagining. She discovered that most Brits pronounce ‘Maurice’ like ‘Morris’ rather than the French way, and she liked how distinctly English his features were, crooked teeth and all. Most refreshing was that—as quickly as she could tell—he was even more naïve to the party scene of showbusiness than she was. She assumed that might because of the tight-knit family aspect of their band. She also liked how they were moving slow because of the location difference, so there didn’t feel like much pressure.

Since autumn began, Ann also made an effort to make some new, strictly platonic friends who weren’t in the music industry and especially not personally familiar with the Monkees. Not that she was mad at the guys (well, except for Mike), she just felt like she needed a break from that kind of drama. So she tried to find a new girl friend besides Genie. She learned from her mother that an old schoolmate, Donna, recently moved to the Valley for nanny positions. With most of her free time socializing with Genie and Donna, it almost didn’t feel strange that she had gone nearly two months without talking to Peter, or even really Davy and Micky. But that was good for their friendships. Personal space was healthy.

But in actuality, the main reason Ann hadn’t heard from any of the Monkees lately was because they weren’t even in the country. They were currently on tour in Australia and Japan. Ann never traveled out of the states for assignments, so even if the big blow-up at RCA hadn’t happened, she wouldn’t have flown out to visit them. From the few news footage and clippings she caught, things went back to schedule for the boys. Micky and Davy were their usual charming selves, though she could tell Davy was now over having to explain why he was ‘single’ to reporters. If there was any lingering tension between Mike and Peter, they were hiding it well, and Mike was unusually in PR mode for the cameras. She’d heard about the incident where two 13-year-old girls successfully snuck by security and tried to jump Davy and Peter at the Oz press conference. Peter, acting as the nurturing Monkee, walked all the way up to his hysterical, crying fangirl to give her a kiss on the forehead and offered to meet up later. (The latter Ann hoped was just lip service or with a fanclub chaperone, as that kind of meeting could be a bit dodgy legality wise.)

The bandmates were also far from done bothering to ‘look’ like Monkees. Mike had become attached to a new American Indian style suede jacket he got over summer, but otherwise looked himself. As did Micky and Davy save for some more recent colorful shirts. But Peter’s hippie aesthetic was now completely transformed. His hair was still shortish, but his face was completely covered with a bushy beard, compared to last August when Ann saw him with only a 5 o’clock shadow. His wardrobe included T-shirts with slogans, psychedelic blouses, beads and a big necklace that Ann couldn’t tell hung the letter ‘Z’ or the number ‘2.’ The most interesting tidbit of the tour reports to Ann was that one piece mentioned a brunette young woman was spotted in the same car as the band. But there weren’t enough details for Ann to try and figure out if Sammy had tagged along down under or Peter had just found some local groupie for the visit. 

Once the tour was over and the band returned to California, the next big thing was for the Monkees movie to finally premiere after production started nearly a year ago. Ann had read in the Hollywood Reporter last month that the film was finally given the title of **Changes**. She told Davy that the title was appropriate, to say the least, while they were at a horse show in Del Mar. But Davy informed her that wasn’t even the title anymore. When he explained to Ann the reason Bob, Bert and Jack wanted to call the movie **Head** , she could not have rolled her eyes further back. She was also a little irrationally annoyed when she found out Mike let Jack take over arranging the soundtrack because he “just wanted to go home.”

If Ann were being honest, she was only lukewarm about attending the film premiere. In fact, she was more hyped for the premiere of **Yellow Submarine** two weeks later with Genie and Donna, whom she managed to nab passes with. But she was still curious about the final product as she was on the set a lot, traveled for the concert scene and was, of course, friends with the band.

Donning a bright white, short-sleeved dress that went mid-thigh and light pink flats, with her hair naturally left down as usual, Ann left her apartment after grabbing a jacket the same shade of white. Even though she had become a recognizable name in her own right since becoming Tiger Beat’s most popular contributor, the red carpet paps didn’t care for her as much as the bigger names attending. This was always one of the better perks of working in entertainment as someone who wasn’t an actor or music artist. After entering the theater, Ann first spotted Micky and Sammy, and greeted both with a hug. Then after grabbing a drink at the mini-bar, she found Davy and Linda in what had to be one of their very first public appearances, and taking advantage of it by gloating. Mike and Phyllis showed up not long after her, but Ann didn’t make a move to greet them as soon as she did the others. The musician was wearing one of his white nudie suits with patriotic flair, while Mrs. Nesmith still had on a furry coat. Unfortunately for Ann, Phyllis recognized her before she could turn away, and pulled Mike with her over to the reporter. After a couple of minutes of Ann and Phyllis quickly catching up—with the latter completely oblivious to the tension between her husband and acquaintance—Mike attempted to step aside, but only for Phyllis to grip his hand tighter at her hip. Ann eventually got Mike off the hook (but more for her own sake than his) and excused herself to refill her glass. 

Barely into a quick attempt to search for Peter, the lights dimmed and everyone started taking to their seats for the feature presentation. For the next 86 minutes, Ann had some of the most mixed feelings she’d ever felt while viewing a movie. Some of it was wonderful, like Davy’s musical number to ‘Daddy’s Song,’ or the montage of Peter, Mike and Davy strolling outdoors to Micky singing ‘As We Go Along.’ The second part was particularly lovely for the shots of Peter walking through the snowy mountains. Ann didn’t think she knew anyone else who could look more naturally tranquil or at peace than him. ‘Can You Dig It’ with belly dancers was pretty groovy, but obviously for the male audiences. And she hated to agree with Mimi, but yes, Mike did look like a good kisser during the kissing scene. The ‘Circle Sky’ sequence looked almost as great on the big screen as it did in person, but Ann would’ve appreciated less of the graphic Vietnam war footage Bob sliced in between frames for the sake of being subversive. The war chant and satire were relevant, and she was sure Mike and Peter supported the use of them, as they’ve always been open about their anti-war opinions. But having the Monkees be the faces of it was just jarring. The politics and social commentary would go over the heads of the 10-15 year-olds who still loved the band. And what was with that scene where Peter punched the waitress in drag? Why are the guys pretending to be dandruff in that old Hollywood actor’s hair? _‘Man, if this is the final edit, what did the rough cut look like in August?’_ By the end, Ann was convinced Bob and Jack just made the film for themselves. 

Standing up to stretch her legs as the end credits rolled, Ann looked around the room to see if she could find Peter. But she mostly saw other perplexed viewers. Mike was absent next to Phyllis’ seat. Jack was already schmoozing to reporters on how great it was to work with Bob and the Monkees. Micky had apparently upped his PR and was tossing soundbites on how the band was helping to ‘kill the movie studio system.’ Davy and Linda were still seated casually talking to each other. And—oh, is that Peter at the corner exit door?

As soon as she thought she recognized his face and beard, a row of people walked in front of Ann’s aisle. Including Bert, who gave her a hug and told her her dress looked great. Then Micky and Sammy walked by to greet her, when she finally asked:

“Peter’s here, right? He’s the only one I couldn’t find before the film started.”

Micky shrugged. “Probably. We all just showed up with the wives separately.”

Not surprised, but also a little sad at the reminder of how the guys had lingered away from each other socially, Ann began heading back to the lobby. Lazing by the door was Bob, casually enjoying the puzzled reaction his film had just caused. Ann stopped to give him a semi-efforted hug and said, “Congratulations, Bob. You finally graduated from “The Monkees”.”

He smirked subtly. “Ann, I know you hated the movie.”

“No, I didn’t hate…Okay, I didn’t enjoy it,” she admitted and he let his smirk grow. “But…I just want you to know. Those little girls who watched the show every week, and listened to the records, and saw the band every time they played in town. They don’t know right now that the man who gave them these cute, funny, talented young men just intentionally tried to kill their image, and used the fangirls as the butt of the joke. When they get a little older and realize that, they probably won’t like that feeling. I know that the guys want to move on, and you and Bert are done with Hollywood. But this extreme ‘deconstruction’ is still at the expense of a lot of your brand’s supporters.”

She wasn’t expecting a response to her little monologue, but she was glad she let it out anyway. “But don’t worry. I’ll still give you a good plug in my column next week,” she added with her own sardonic smile as she placed her jacket back on. He just shook his head in amusement.

“Thanks again, Annie.”

“Have fun making independent films,” was the last thing she said before entering the lobby. As she turned her head to see who was left in the room, Davy and Linda were finally up and passing near her.

“Okay, so is Peter here or what? I thought I saw him for a split second when the movie ended and then never again.”

Davy gave a look of confusion, “Oh, do you not—”

“Excuse me, have either of you seen my husband?” Phyllis suddenly interrupted and stepped up to the two friends. Ann just awkwardly shook her head, not exactly sure what to tell her. 

“Maybe he’s going for the longest loo break on record,” Davy offered lamely. Not satisfied, Phyllis carried on through the party. Davy and Ann just cringed and exchanged looks to each other.


	14. Early Morning

Ch. 14: Early Morning

Hollywood, December 1968

Despite Ann throwing a bone to the group and Raybert with a little plug of **Head** in Tiger Beat, the effort was all for naught. The avant garde Monkees movie (what a description) was a complete dud with band fans and movie fans. Even the intellectual film critics didn’t appreciate Bob’s absurdist effort. Ann had to smirk when she heard the rumor of Pauline Kael walking out of the middle of her press screening, though knowing Bob, he probably saw that as a rite of passage. The soundtrack underperformed too, not even making the top 20, because—like Ann had worried—the few fans left still wanted bubblegum, not psychedelia. It was official. Monkeemania was on life support. Fortunately she knew that the guys themselves didn’t mind, and were relieved to not have to deal with fan hysteria for the first time in over two years. Mike in particular was itching for some extra free time, as Ann heard through an acquaintance at RCA that he was trying to come up with a solo contract.

Meanwhile in Ann’s life, things were going pretty smoothly. She was one of the youngest and most accomplished female magazine editors in Hollywood, and her love life wasn’t bad either. She continued to see Maurice whenever he and his brothers were in town, and it got to the point where she was considering it a (slightly long distance) relationship. One early morning the week before Christmas, Ann answered the phone to Micky offering for her to stop by the last day of shooting their new TV special in two days. It’s going to have a big, extravagant, psychedelic finale of the band playing one of their newer songs, and it was being treated like a big party. Ann naturally agreed and set aside her last day of holiday shopping one more day ahead. But she was surprised when he told her to drive up to MGM instead of their old home network.

“Why are we at MGM? What happened to NBC?” Ann questioned right as she entered the film lot at the beginning of the day.

“Writers’ strike,” was all Micky passively explained. 

As Ann leisurely walked around the soundstage as the crew set up the TV equipment and props, she glanced at who was also stopping by. There were R&B/soul musicians as back-up performers, which Ann didn’t really understand considering the Monkees’ musical history. There was also a lot of dancers walking through the costume and make-up departments in hippie attire. Henry was around as usual, with one of his cameras. Then she noticed Micky and Davy arrived with Sammy and Linda in tow, and she walked over to greet them. Five minutes later, Mike and Phyllis entered the set hand-in-hand with the wife smiling pleasantly, while Mike’s eyes didn’t fully reach the same emotionally. Ann always felt a little awkward when she saw them together in person since she discovered their marital flaws. She had to wonder by now how much denial Phyllis was in at this point. Trying not to frown at the thought, Ann left to find a corner to place her jacket and bag.

Peter was one of the last people to arrive, and Ann instantly took notice of the pretty young woman holding his hand. She had straight brown hair and matching dark eyes, with a long tye-dyed dress and beige sandals. They took their time entering, chatting with the crew and performers, with Peter occasionally hanging his arm around her shoulder. Ann wasn’t surprised. On Thanksgiving weekend, she saw a photo of them together in Teen Set that looked like it might have been shot at the NYC premiere of **Head**. She didn’t want to come off as suspicious by asking any of her Monkees related friends about them, so she just wondered on her own for five days until she and Sammy recognized each other at Chasen’s. Ann tried to ask as casually as she could how long Peter and the new girl had been a thing, to which Sam just replied “a few months.” Then Ann had to wonder how long was a ‘few months’ constituted as that could also be considered the same amount of time since she and Peter fought with Mike. 

Seeing the two of them up close, Ann couldn’t stop herself from speculating what their relationship was like. Considering Peter’s sexual reputation were they…swingers? In an open relationship? Did he legitimately lose interest in promiscuity and find sudden inspiration to be monogamous? If that’s the case, did she make a mistake closing the chance at them being a couple? Should she have waited it out? As multiple questions ran through her mind, she felt a light tap on her shoulder.

“Hey, there.” It was Davy. “Been a while since I’ve seen you that zoned out,” he contemplated.

She shook herself out of her trance and gave him a smile. “Hi, Davy.” 

“What’s on the brain?” He asked simply.

“Oh…nothing really,” she claimed. “This set feels kind of melancholic for a big finale you’re suppose to be shooting,” she changed for subject.

“God, I can’t wait ‘til we wrap so we can just focus on the holidays,” Davy confessed.

Ann took one more glance over at the hippie couple before moving around the room again. She didn’t feel jealous or snubbed, but she didn’t feel completely nothing looking at them either. _‘I guess that’s the price paid for letting yourself be attracted to your friends,’_ she thought. The program director, “Shindig!” creator Jack Good, finally arrived at the lot and Ann made an excuse to say hello to him. After their quick salutations, Ann turned around to see Peter walking up to her with his usual big, friendly smile. 

“Hey!” He exclaimed while reaching for a hug, which she accepted. It didn’t really feel that uncomfortable either. He had a new girlfriend, and she was seeing someone else too. Maybe now they could finally officially be platonic friends.

“Hi,” she responded warmly as they let go. She then studied how his hair was now touching his shoulders, but he was back to being clean-shaven. She still loved his face. After what felt like forever, Ann finally began speaking.

“So that’s why I haven’t heard from you lately,” she tried to tease.

“Oh, right. I’ve actually been trying to introduce you to Reine. I think you’d like each other!” He claimed.

Ann raised an eyebrow in disbelief, “Really?”

“Sure, she writes too. I mean, it’s just a journal, but that’s how you started!”

“When I was seven,” Ann laughed lightly.

“But hey, you haven’t exactly called or stopped by either,” he teased back.

“Yeah…I think I actually have a boyfriend now,” she revealed while trying not to blush.

Peter’s brows perked high intrigued. “For real? Who’s the lucky fella? A bookkeeper? A banker? Someone who’s never been introduced to a guitar before?”

She laughed again. “Sort of. He’s a vocalist.”

“Ah. Well, they are the most boring of music people,” he stated.

Ann just smiled, not really feeling like detailing Maurice or their fling. “So…I think I discovered the real reason we could never be a couple.”

He gave a surprised look. “Oh?”

“Well, obviously Reine is a brunette. Leah was a brunette. I don’t know what your ex-wife looks like, but I’m going to guess she was a brunette too…” She finished with a lop-sided grin.

Peter smiled realizing she was kidding. “Yeah, but that saying about blondes is true.”

It was Ann’s turn to look surprised, but kept her smile. “What…?”

“I have the most fun with you!” He humorously confessed and Ann couldn’t help but let out a genuine giggle.

As the set was finally assembled for the cameras, Ann noticed that more hippies had shown up to the shoot. But it looked like they were just people who’d walked off the street rather than professionals. Stepping aside for the performers and crew to begin working, Ann found herself behind the camera equipment next to the Monkee significant others, Henry and a man who looked like he was hired for catering. She eventually ended up sitting on a fold-out chair next to Sammy who was next to Phyllis, who was next to Linda with Reine finally on the end. Ann tried not to feel to weird over the fact that she was the only one not romantically linked to the young men, and also tried not to look too long at Reine on the opposite side. And she told herself she didn’t purposely sit farthest away from—

“Ann, did you really have to write that report on Mike’s arrest?” Phyllis interrupted her thoughts. “It’s just so unflattering to have that information public.”

Ann snorted instinctively. “Considering he was busted for wearing a defaced American flag as a shirt, I’d say that’s pretty low on the list of shocking celebrity arrests, Phyllis.”

Just then the AD shouted for the room to be quiet as Jack and director Art Fisher got next to the camera in front of the dirty looking warehouse like stage. Davy hopped to the top of a staircase and sang a brief cover of Bill Dorsey’s ‘A String for My Kite.’ That was neat because it’s always nice to hear Davy get into his showtune sensibilities. Then Ann smiled as Peter walked out to his spot for one of his usual Bach solos, this time on harpsichord. She wondered if she imagined a look of solemnness that caught his face for a split second as he finished the 90 second piece. Then Mike and Micky finally entered the stage, grabbed their guitar and drums, and the foursome began to play Mike’s new song ‘Listen to the Band.’ It’s a bit slower and organic than most of the band’s material, especially live, and she thought it had a lot of potential to mature the group’s sound. The guys look like they’re having a ball jamming and Mike even put on a genuine smile of enjoyment at the current chemistry. But when the hippie extras started slowly taking to the stage—most of whom already looked stoned—the vibe was almost instantly tainted to Ann’s mind.

One of the hippies held up a sign reading ‘He’s really playing!’ with an arrow pointed toward Mike. The R&B music artists started playing along with the Monkees, with the two struggling to really synch up melodically. The studio lights flickered for effect, more hippies kept joining the stage, the music became more frantic and over the top, a British voice began ranting a non-sensical speech, one of the back-up singers sang off key. Ann never did try the acid Peter offered her last year, but if she had, it probably would’ve been something like this. **Head** was eye-roll inducing during her first viewing, but this was just…too much. At least with the movie, Ann knew Bob and Bert were just using the band to experiment with filmmaking, even if it was at their expense. Who are the 12 people who are going to enjoy the psychedelic nausea happening right in front of her? 

After a few minutes of trying not to cringe, Ann looked at the women next to her for their reactions. Phyllis looked just as uncomfortable as she did, Sammy and Linda appeared to have supportive expressions at their spouses’ performances and Reine was probably the only one on the sidelines who looked like she ‘got it.’ Ann suddenly felt like a square in the room of musical chaos. Worse, she couldn’t even really blame any of the ‘powers that be’ for the problematic TV program. Raybert were gone, Kirshner was out forever. The band probably pictured this whole thing as a middle finger to the men who tried to screw them over the first six months of their career, but to everyone else it will look like a middle finger to the audience. Ann suddenly wished it was 1966 again, and she was back to riding Davy’s bike, or sneaking off with Peter to light a joint, or even chasing Mike around the set for an almost late article. After about five minutes, Ann excused herself to step outside for some air.


	15. Zilch

Ch. 15: Zilch

Santa Monica, December 1968

Three days after the divisive TV production Ann experienced, she walked through the Tiger Beat offices Tuesday morning to a peculiar mood hanging over the building. As she entered the main office toward her desk, she heard lots of verbal commotion coming from the younger writers and interns. One of the newer interns working with her, Louise, spotted her and paced over.

“What’s going on?” Ann asked as she set down her bags at her spot at the window in the very back of the room.

Louise eyes grew in surprise. “You don’t know? Peter quit the Monkees.”

Ann’s mind was a blank at the answer. “…Huh?”

“I heard it on the radio while driving to work right now. Apparently he’s been out for two days.”

Ann still wasn’t computing the information. Two days ago was only a day after the TV special ended. “…Peter? Peter quit? …Not Mike?”

Louise just nodded. “Yeah. You really had no idea?”

“I…I don’t know. I knew they were having problems as a team, but…I don’t know. I didn’t think it would happen this soon.” _‘How was it not Mike?’_ Even near the end of the second season over a year ago, she could tell he was phoning it in and making excuses to sit out of scenes. 

Louise grabbed her cup of coffee from her spot. “Is it really that big a surprise? Didn’t he sit out of the last album?”

“No. I mean, sort of, but…it’s complicated.” Ann sloppily explained as she tried to process how she didn’t see this coming.

Louise placed her hand on her hip after taking a sip of coffee. “Man, what a crappy year for music. First Cream break up, then the Mamas & the Papas, and now the Monkees.” 

****

“It was hardly a surprise, really. It was basically a countdown to see who would be the first one to do it. Peter was the only one who hadn’t had a real job before the show, and we were consistently working double duty with the filming, recording and touring simultaneously. Fatigue.” Mike explained as he unpacked a box of newly rented equipment at his home mini-studio. “Peter was always music first, acting second. You know that.”

Ann stood in front of him with her arms crossed in contemplation. “…But there’s no show now and the movie’s over…So you can finally focus on only music. That doesn’t make sense.”

“Everyone needs a break at some point,” he simply stated as he opened a box. “He won’t admit it to you, but he was also getting tired of playing up the ‘dumb one’ act.”

Ann didn’t bother to be surprised anymore when Mike would pick and choose when to have decent conversations with her. Just like she wasn’t bothering to be surprised that she was in his home studio talking about why Peter quit. She tried calling him as soon as she heard the news, but the phone would never pick up. Eventually she started looking elsewhere for explanations.

“When did you find out?” She finally asked after a pause.

“About an hour after he bought out his contract. I ran into town to send a going away gift to his house before the day ended. I still haven’t heard any reactions, so I’m assuming he wasn’t impressed or just far too verklempt with emotion to respond.” 

“I wouldn’t be surprised if he still holds a grudge at you. Especially after throwing away that live performance from **Head** ,” Ann pondered.

“I didn’t literally throw it away,” he explained while examining a new mic. “In twenty years, if people still remember the Monkees and want to make an easy buck, they can dig through the RCA basement archives for an unissued live track.

“I still can’t believe you weren’t the first one to leave,” she continued.

“What are you talking about? I love being a Monkee!” He said playfully.

She let herself smile at that. “Feels like such a waste for all that hard work to be able to play your own instruments for only two years.”

“I know Peter is your favorite, but you do realize there are still three of us in the group, right? We already have a release date scheduled for February,” Mike reminded.

Ann hadn’t actually considered that. “Yeah, and I’m sure there are going to be session guys all over that record.”

“Well, when you have the best available…” He trailed off.

“You guys are good, especially now. I don’t know why you insisted on going back to that,” Ann said.

“I’m more of a production guy anyway,” Mike casually shrugged.

“But you fought just as hard to get rid of them,” she insisted.

Mike stood to straighten himself while placing a cardboard box behind her by the door. “Ah, come on, Annie. You’re a bright girl, you must have noticed by now I’m not against sessions players. I just couldn’t stand Kirshner. The whole ‘play every single instrument in the studio’ thing was always primarily Peter and Chip.”

Ann leaned against the wall contemplating the reference to the band’s former producer Chip Douglas. _‘Why did he and Peter not get along anyway?’_ “And yet he kept having the most outtakes…”

He just looked at her leniently. Ann changed the subject when a memory hit her.

“Speaking of archives.” She stood up slightly. “I was looking through my own for Tiger Beat yesterday. I forgot you let me scan a photo of you and your mom in front of that Christian Science center for one of your earlier pieces. Hard to believe that cute little boy would grow up to be so neurotic.”

Mike looked mildly confused at her description before breaking out a chuckle. “Oh. That wasn’t a Christian Science center.”

Ann returned a confused look. “What?”

“My mother and I are sitting in front of the Sam Houston statue. It’s at Hermann Park in Houston,” he corrected.

“…Are you telling me you purposely gave me the wrong location?” She asked bemused.

“Yeah,” he let out another laugh.

“You know that’s in print, right?” Ann pushed while stunned. “And that reflects on me!”

Mike just raised his arms in cartoony fashion. “Oops,” he said with more amused laughter at his own confession.

Ann stood in annoyed shock for a moment more before a laugh left her as she shook her head. “Incredible.” The moment gave her an odd sense of nostalgia. 

“Well hey, you know. Think of this as personal growth,” Mike offered. “Everyone needs that challenge to improve their craft. And here I was for you!” Another goofy smile.

Ann rolled her eyes playfully. “Alright, Mike. You can have credit for my success.”

“And now you can keep my reputation alive and well with your new staff,” he added.

Her smile grew. “Sure. ‘Hey guys, don’t listen to that Michael Nesmith, he’s a big liar!’”


	16. Love is Understanding/Another Day

Ch. 16: Love Is Understanding

Studio City, January 1969

Ann turned off her car engine as she parked in front of Peter’s new home in Studio City. It was a little over two weeks since she last saw him at the TV taping, and she was now finally reuniting to catch up on all that’s happened since. After her conversation with Mike, she heard from Micky the following afternoon that Peter flew back to Connecticut in between Christmas and New Year’s. Understanding his predicament, she didn’t try to contact him until the first Monday into the new year. She stepped in front of his front door in a simple white blouse, black leather skirt and beige boots. She knocked twice before the door finally opened.

“Hi—AH! Oh my God!” She jumped and turned her body partially away from the door, while blocking her eyes startled.

“Are you alright?” She heard Peter ask while chuckling.

She caught her breath and eventually turned back to look at him, taking extra effort to look only at his face.

“Why are you naked?...”

“Ann, you know there’s no dress code at my place,” was all he said like it should be obvious.

Ann didn’t know how to respond to that, so she just stood there awkwardly not looking down.

“Here, let me show you around the house,” he stated while grabbing her hand and leading her inside. She took the tour as an excuse to not look at him. It looked even more modest than his previous Laurel Canyon residence, reminding her a little of Davy’s apartment in West Hollywood right before the show blew up. Through the sliding glass doors that lead to the backyard, she could see Reine next to the pool in only sunglasses and a green swimsuit bottom while blowing bubbles from a bottle. Peter let go of Ann’s hand as they stopped for a second next to the kitchen. As he moved to the cabinet and fridge, she noticed mostly vegetables and fruit.

“No more soda?” She noticed.

“You wouldn’t believe how much cleaner my body feels since Reine introduced me to her organic dieting,” Peter claimed. Ann gave him a pointed look, knowing his body wasn’t clean from drugs and alcohol. She then went back to glancing around the living room and noticed a gold watch lazily placed on the small table by the couch. She squinted and leaned forward to see the words ‘from the guys at work’ engraved on the backside.

“You want anything to eat?” Peter asked.

Ann turned back to the kitchen where he was making some kind of planty blend. “I’m fine, but thanks…” She then awkwardly leaned against the counter and played with her hands. “So…this is the first time I’ve seen you since you…left,” she ended vaguely.

He smirked. “Shocked it wasn’t Mike?”

“Yes. Actually he was the one who told me what happened.”

Peter chortled. “I’d have loved to have been there to hear his summary of events.”

“He was pretty straight forward, to be honest.” Ann then got back on track. “So…what happened? I still haven’t heard you speak about it personally.”

Peter poured his drink and shrugged. “I just need a break. We were barely recording as a band unit anymore. Not like the label were putting any more effort into us either.”

Ann wasn’t convinced. “Isn’t that normal though? I heard the Beatles recorded parts of the white album on their own.”

He took a swig without bothering to respond.

Ann kept gently pushing for more details. “So now what, then? A new band? Solo record finally?”

“Yeah, eventually. Bob and Bert promised me a couple of songs for that road trip movie they’re off shooting with Fonda. So I guess I’ll work on that first and then…go from there.”

She decided to look back at the pool right as Reine jumped in. “I don’t know, Peter…Now that Monkeemania’s dead, it feels like the perfect time for you guys to finally be respected like your contemporaries.”

Peter snorted. Right then a man with long hair and a goatee stepped out of one of the rooms from the east side of the house. Ann internally felt relief that he was still wearing shorts.

“Hey, Pete.” As he noticed Ann’s presence, he bluntly asked, “Is this the chick you were trying to bag?”

Ann’s eyes widened slightly as she instantly straightened her stance and Peter looked uncomfortable. “Um, no. Hey man, new to the concept of tact?” He tried to laugh off.

The man then left the room again after grabbing a pear from the fruit bowl. Peter then tried to kill the tension. “You know, Reine fancies herself like a west coast Moe Tucker and can keep a decent beat. My next gig could be me on lead guitar and her on drums.”

“Oh.” Ann tried to sound happy. “That does sound interesting.”

“You and your superstar boyfriend could give us some publicity too,” he winked.

Ann subtly grimaced. _‘Oh, right. He doesn’t know…’_ “Yeah…we actually broke up last week.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Annie.” He sounded like he genuinely meant it.

“Thanks,” she smiled solemnly. “You’d think I’d know by now that even if the guy doesn’t party, there’s still a chance he could cheat.”

He then reached over the counter to give her hand a squeeze. She smiled as she appreciated his condolences. But his leaning closer also shook her back to the fact that he wasn’t wearing any clothes, and she subconsciously tensed. Ann tried to hide her reaction and looked away.

“Hey, want to make use of the new pool with us?” He suggested lively.

“I didn’t bring a suit,” she tried to answer casually.

“None of us are wearing suits,” he passed back amused.

Something about his statement made her realize that even if they were successfully not attracted to each other and platonic, the friendship still wouldn’t be the same as it used to be. They were just growing apart too differently as people.

“Oh, you know all of this is just too hippie-ish for me,” she tried to claim again lightly.

“I know, that’s why I keep trying to convert you,” he teased affably.

Ann rubbed the back of his hand before letting go and saying: “I think I should head out, actually. I have to cover that new band Sha-Na-Na’s show tomorrow and need to buy some ink. Can you believe they’re trying to bring doo-wop back?” She tried to converse friendly.

“Yeah,” he laughed. “If there’s one thing you can give the Monkees credit for, it’s making an effort not to be dated.”

Ann smiled in agreement and started moving to the front door. “Hey, let me know when your new band gets signed. I’ll be the first one to report on your new gigs,” she offered supportively.

“You bet,” he smiled back.

Ann stood for an extra second, just smiling at him before leaving with: “I’ll see you later.”

 

 

Ep: Another Day

Phoenix, spring 1977

It’s almost a decade since the original line-up of the Monkees ended, and everything is completely different. Ann’s in northern California retired from journalism and working on a medical degree. She lives a completely ordinary life and is engaged to a man just as ordinary. After the 1960s end, bubblegum pop is briefly kept alive by The Partridge Family and the Osmonds. She spends a couple years hanging around teen idol David Cassidy and child star siblings Donny & Marie before hard rock and soft rock gradually take over the music industry. Micky and Davy are now the only ones left keeping the Monkees legacy going with Tommy and Bobby, though they’re headlining as ‘Dolenz, Jones, Boyce & Hart.’ Mike made a top 10 hit single in 1970 called ‘Joanne’ as he left the band 15 months after Peter. But his solo albums consistently undersell, and he opens his own production company called Pacific Arts while on to his second marriage.

Ann goes through periods where she wishes she hadn’t lost touch with Peter. A year after their brief reunion in Studio City, she learns he and Reine are expecting a baby and living in David Crosby’s basement. Their band never gets signed and Ann really wishes had stayed in contact with him when she learns Peter spent time in jail for carrying hash in Oklahoma. Last thing she hears, he’s managed to secure a job as a high school teacher. She’s glad he’s life appears to be back on track, but sad he’s supposedly abandoned music.

 

[Wow, this epilogue is really fucking bleak, lmao. If you want a second, more upbeat ending, check out Ann’s [blog post](http://annmoses.com/the-monkees-back-to-the-future/) (which largely inspired this fic) on her reconnecting with Peter in 2013, and is better written than any epilogue I could fan-fictionalize.]


End file.
